3  1822  01232  7987 


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LIBRARY 
SAN  o»eGO 


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UNIVERSIIy    Of    CALlfORNlA     S»N    DIECO 


3   1822  01232  7987 


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GRAIN  AND  CHAFF 

FROM  AN 

ENGLISH   MANOR 


BY 

ARTHUR    H.     SAVORY 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON    MIFFLIN    CO. 

1921 


PRINTED    IN    GREAT    BRITAIN. 


"  Ah,  what  a  life  were  this  1  how  sweet !  how  lovely  I 
Gives  not  the  hawthorn-bush  a  sweeter  shade 
To  shepherds  looking  on  their  silly  sheep, 
Than  doth  a  rich  embroider'd  canopy 
To  kings  that  fear  their  subjects'  treachery  1" 

3  King  Henry  VI. 

"When  I  paused  to  lean  on  my  hoe,  these  sounds  and  sights  I  heard  and 
saw  anywhere  in  the  row,  a  part  of  the  inexhaustible  entertainment  which 
the  country  offers." — Thoreau. 

"Life  is  sweet,  brother.  .  .  .  There's  night  and  day,  brother,  both  sweet 
things;  sun,  moon  and  stars,  brother,  all  sweet  things ;  there's  likewise  the 
wind  on  the  heath.  Life  is  very  sweet, brother ;  who  would  wish  to  die  ?" — 
Borrow  :  Jasper  Petulengro. 


PREFACE 

As  a  result"  of  increased  facilities  within  the  last  quarter  of 
a  century  for  the  exploration  of  formerly  inaccessible  parts 
of  the  country,  interest  concerning  our  ancient  villages 
has  been  largely  awakened.  Most  of  these  places  have 
some  unwritten  history  and  peculiarities  worthy  of  atten- 
tion, and  an  extensive  literary  field  is  thus  open  to  residents 
with  opportunities  for  observation  and  research. 

Such  records  have  rarely  been  undertaken  in  the  past, 
possibly  because  those  capable  of  doing  so  have  not 
recognized  that  what  are  the  trivial  features  of  everyday 
life  in  one  generation  may  become  exceptional  in  the  next, 
and  later  still  will  have  disappeared  altogether. 

Gilbert  White,  who  a  hundred  and  thirty  years  ago 
published  his  Natural  History  of  Selborne,  was  the  first,  and 
I  suppose  the  most  eminent,  historian  of  any  obscure 
village,  and  it  is  surprising,  as  his  book  has  for  so  long 
been  regarded  as  a  classic,  that  so  few  have  attempted  a 
similar  record.  His  great  work  remains  an  inspiring  ideal 
which  village  historians  can  keep  in  view,  not  without 
some  hope  of  producing  a  useful  description  of  country 
life  as  they  have  seen  it  themselves. 

It  is  a  pleasure  to  acknowledge  with  grateful  thanks 
the  kind  help  of  friends  and  correspondents  which  I  have 
received  in  writing  this  book.  Mr.  Warde  Fowler  was  good 
enough  to  look  through  the  chapters  while  still  in  manu- 
script, and  I  have  also  received  great  help  from  Mr.  Herbert 
A.  Evans,  who  has  read  through  the  proofs.  The  help 
of  others — besides  those  whose  names  I  give  in  the  text — 
has  been  less  general  and  mostly  confined  to  some  details 
in  the  historical  part  of  the  first  chapter,  and  to  portions 


vi  PREFACE 


of  the  subject-matter  of  the  last.  Mr.  Hugh  Last,  Fellow 
of  St.  John's  College,  Oxford,  most  kindly  gave  much 
valuable  time  to  the  examination  of  the  Roman  coins  and 
assigning  them  to  their  respective  reigns;  he  contributed 
also  the  notes  on  the  Emperors,  with  special  reference  to 
the  events  in  Britain  which  occurred  during  their  reigns. 
Mr.  Dudley  F.  Nevill  of  Burley  helped  me  in  a  variety  of 
ways,  and  Mr.  C.  A.  Binyon  of  Badscy  supplied  some  of 
the  historical  details  and  information  about  the  ancient 
roads. 

Looking  back  over  the  years  I  spent  at  Aldington,  I  see 
much  more  sunshine  and  blue  sky  than  cloud  and  storm, 
notwithstanding  the  difficulties  of  the  times.  It  is  a  con- 
tinual source  of  pleasure  to  go  over  the  familiar  fields  in 
imagination  and  to  recall  the  kindly  faces  of  my  loyal  and 
willing  labourers.  I  trust  that  what  I  have  written  of 
them  will  make  plain  my  grateful  remembrance  of  their 
unfailing  sympathy  and  ready  help. 

ARTHUR  H.  SAVORY. 


BuKLEY,  Hants. 
January,  1920. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 


FAOB 


I.  Aldington  Village — The  Manor  JIouse — Tue  Farm    -  1 

II.  The  Farm  Bailiff                -             -             -             -             -  11 

III.  The  Hop  Foreman  and  the  Hop  Drier               -             -  23 

IV.  The  Head  Carter — The  Carpenter         -             -             -  35 
V.  An   Old-Fashioned   Shepherd — Old   Tricker — A   Gar- 
dener— My  Second  Head  Carter — A  Labourer        -  4G 

VI.  Characteristics     of     Agricultural     Labourers     and 

Villagers               -             -             -             -             -             -  57 

VII.  Machinery — Village  Politics — Asparagus          -            -  80 

VIII.  My   Three   Vicars  —  Church    Restoration  —  Church- 
warden Experiences — Clerical  and  other  Stories  89 

IX.  The    School    Board — Religious    Instruction — School 

Inspectors — ^Dean  Farrar — Compulsory  Education  -  106 

X.  Village     Institutions:     Cricket — Football — Flower- 

Show — Band — Postman — Concerts        -            -            -  119 

XI.  Dealers — Luck  Money  —  Fairs  —  Sales  —  Effect  of 

Climate  on  Cattle  and  Sheep — Agricultural  Shows  120 

XII.  Farm  Specialists     -----             -  141 

XIII.  The  Dairy — Cattle — Sheep — Lambs — Pigs — Poultry   -  153 

XIV.  Orchards — Apples — Cider — Perry           -            -            -  167 

XV.  Plums— Cherries     -            -            -            -            -            -  182 

XVI.  Trees:  Elm— Oak— Beech — Willow— Scots-Fir             -  187 

XVII.  Corn — Wheat — Ridge  and  Furrow — Barley — Farmers 

Newstyle  and  Oldstyle            .             .             -             .  207 

XVIII.  Hops — Insect  Attacks — Hop  Fairs           -            -            -  220 
XIX.  Meteorology — Eton  and  Harrow  at  Lord's — "  Rus  in 

Ubbe" 230 

vii 


viii  CONTENTS 


CHAinrBR  PAGE 

XX.  Chanqing  Course  of  Streams  —  Dewponds  —  A  Wet 
Harvest — VVeatukb  Phenomena — Will-o'-the-Wisp — 
Various      -  -  -  -  -  -  -    239 

XXI.  Birds:  Peacocks — A  White  Pheasant — Rooks'  Arith- 
metic ......  -    253 

XXII.  Pets:  Susie — Cocky — Trump — Chips — Wendy — Taffy    -    2G4 

XXIII.  Butterflies — Moths — Wasps  ....    271 

XXIV.  Cycling — Pageants  of  the  Roads — Roadside  Creatures 

— Harmonious  Building — Collecting  Old  Furniture 
AND  China  ......     278 

XXV.  Dialect — Local  Phraseology  in  Shakespeare — Names 

— Stupid  Places  -  .....    2S8 

XXVI.  Is  Aldington  the  Roman  Antona?  ...    294 

Index   ......  .  -     30a 


GRAIN  AND  CHAFF  FROM    AN 
ENGLISH  MANOR 

CHAPTER  I 

ALDINGTON  VILLAGE— THE  MANOR  HOUSE— THE  FARM 

"  There's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends." 

Hamlet. 

"Deep-meadow'd,  happy,  fair  with  orchard  lawns.'* 

Morte  (V Arthur. 

In  recalling  my  earliest  impressions  of  the  village  of 
Aldington,  near  Evesham,  Worcestershire,  the  fiist  picture 
that  presents  itself  is  of  two  chestnut -trees  in  full  bloom 
in  front  of  the  Manor  House  which  became  my  home,  and 
their  welcome  was  so  gracious  on  that  sunny  May  morning 
that  it  inclined  me  to  take  a  hopeful  view  of  the  inspection 
of  the  house  and  land  which  was  the  object  of  my  visit. 

The  village  took  its  name  from  the  Celtic  Alne,  white 
river;  the  Anglo-Saxon,  ing,  children  or  clan;  and  ton,  the 
enclosed  place.  The  whole  name,  therefore,  signified  "  the 
enclosed  place  of  the  children,  or  clan,  of  the  Alne."  There 
are  many  other  Alnes  in  England  and  Scotland,  also  Aliens 
and  Ellens  as  river  names,  probably  corruptions  of  Alne, 
and  we  have  many  instances  of  the  combination  of  a  river 
name  with  ing  and  ton,  such  as  Lymington  and  Dartington. 
The  Celtic  Alne  points  to  the  antiquity  of  the  place,  and 
there  were  extensive  traces  of  Roman  occupation  to  which 
I  shall  refer  later. 

The  village  was  really  no  more  than  a  hamlet  ecclesias- 
tically attached  to  the  much  larger  village  of  Badsey. 
In  addition  to  Celtic,  Roman,  and  Anglo-Saxon  associa- 
tions, it  figured  before  the  Norman  Conquest  in  connection 
with  the  Monastery  and  Abbey  of  Evesham,  the  Manor  and 

1 


AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


the  mill  being  mentioned  in  the  Abbey  records;  and  they 
were  afterwards  set  down  in  Domesday  Survey. 

The  Vale  of  Evesham,  in  whieh  Aldington  is  situated, 
lies  at  the  foot  of  the  Cotswold  Hills,  and  when  approached 
from  them  a  remarkable  change  in  climate  and  appearance 
is  at  once  noticeable.  Descending  from  Broadway  or 
Chipping  Campden — that  is,  from  an  altitude  of  about 
1,000  feet  to  one  of  150  or  less — on  a  mid-April  day,  one 
exchanges,  within  a  few  miles,  the  grip  of  winter,  grey  stone 
walls  and  bare  trees,  for  the  hopeful  greenery  of  opening 
leaves  and  thickening  hedges,  and  the  withered  gi-ass  of  the 
Hill  pastures  for  the  luxuriance  of  the  Vale  meadows. 

The  earliness  of  the  climate  and  the  natural  richness  of 
the  land  is  the  secret  of  the  intensive  cultivation  which  the 
Vale  presents,  and  year  by  year  more  and  more  acres  pass 
out  of  the  category  of  farming  into  that  of  market-garden- 
ing and  fruit-growing.  The  climate,  however,  though  in- 
valuable for  early  vegetable  crops,  is  a  source  of  danger  to 
the  fruit.  After  a  few  days  of  the  warm,  moist  green- 
house temperature  which,  influenced  by  the  Gulf  Stream, 
comes  from  the  south-west  up  the  Severn  and  Avon  valleys, 
between  the  Malverns  and  the  Cotswolds,  and  which  brings 
out  the  plum  blossom  on  thousands  of  acres,  a  bitter  frost 
sometimes  occurs,  when  the  destruction  of  the  tender  bloom 
is  a  tragedy  in  the  Vale,  while  the  Hills  escape  owing  to 
their  more  backward  development. 

The  Manor  House  had  been  added  to  and  largely  altered, 
but  many  years  had  brought  it  into  harmony  with  its 
surroundings,  while  Nature  had  dealt  kindly  with  its 
colouring,  so  that  it  carried  the  charm  of  long  use  and 
continuous  human  habitation.  Behind  the  house  an  old 
walled  garden,  with  flower-bordered  grass  walks  under 
arches  of  honeysuckle  and  roses,  gave  vistas  of  an  ample 
mill-pond  at  the  lower  end,  forming  one  of  the  garden 
boundaries.  The  pond  was  almost  surrounded  by  tall 
black  poplars  which  stretched  protecting  arms  over  the 
water,  forming  a  wide  and  lofty  avenue  extending  to  the 
faded  red-brick  mill  itself,  and  whispering  continuously  on 


THE  MANOR  HOUSE 


the  stillest  summer  day.  The  mill-wheel  could  be  seen 
revolving  and  glittering  in  the  sunlight,  and  the  hum  of 
distant  machinery  inside  the  mill  could  be  heard.  The  brook, 
which  fed  the  pond,  was  fringed  by  ancient  pollard  willows; 
it  wound  through  luxuriant  meadows  with  plouglied  land  or 
cornfields  still  farther  back.  The  whole  formed  a  peaceful 
picture  almost  to  the  verge  of  drowsiness,  and  reminded 
one  of  the  "  land  in  which  it  seemed  always  afternoon." 

The  space  below  the  house  and  the  upper  part  of  the 
garden  immediately  behind  it  was  occupied  by  the  rick- 
yard,  reaching  to  the  mill  and  pond,  and  a  long  range  of 
mossy-roofed  barns  divided  it  from  the  farmyard  with  its 
stables  and  cattle-sheds. 

The  village  occupied  one  side  only  of  the  street,  as  it  was 
called — the  street  consisting  of  two  arms  at  a  right  angle, 
with  the  Manor  House  near  its  apex.  The  cottages  were 
built,  mostly  in  pairs,  of  old  brick,  and  tiled,  having  dormer 
windows,  and  gardens  in  front  and  at  the  sides,  well  stocked 
with  fruit-trees  and  fruit-bushes,  and  this  helped  the 
cottagers  towards  the  payment  of  their  very  moderate 
rents,  which  had  remained  the  same,  I  believe,  for  the 
best  part  of  half  a  century. 

Throughout  all  the  available  space  not  so  occupied,  on 
either  side  of  the  two  arms  of  the  street,  and  again  behind 
the  cottages  themselves,  beautiful  old  orchards,  chiefly  of 
apple-trees,  formed  an  unsurpassed  setting  both  when  the 
blossom  was  out  in  pink  and  white,  or  the  fruit  was  ripen- 
ing in  gold  and  crimson,  and  even  in  winter,  when  the 
grey  limbs  and  twisted  trunks  of  the  bare  trees  admitted 
the  level  rays  of  the  sun. 

The  farm  consisted  of  about  300  acres  of  mixed  arable 
and  grass  land  on  either  side  of  two  shallow  valleys,  along 
which  wandered  the  main  brook  and  its  tributary,  uniting, 
where  the  valleys  joined,  into  one  larger  stream,  so  that  all 
the  gi-ass  land  was  abundantly  supplied  with  water  for  the 
stock.  These  irregular  brooks,  bordered  throughout  their 
whole  course  with  pollard  willows,  made  a  charming  feature 
and  gave  great  character  to  the  picture. 


4  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

In  the  records  of  Evesham  Abbey  we  find  the  Manor, 
including  the  lands  comprised  therein,  among  the  earliest 
property  granted  lor  its  endowment.  The  erection  of  the 
Abbey  commenced  about  701,  and  William  of  Malmesbury, 
writing  of  the  loneliness  of  the  spot,  tells  us  that  a  small 
church,  probably  built  by  the  Britons,  had  from  an  early 
date  existed  there.  In  709  sixty-five  manses  were  given 
by  Kenred,  King  of  Mercia,  leagued  with  Offa,  King  of  the 
East  Angles,  including  one  in  Aldinton  (sic),  and  Domesday 
Survey  mentions  one  hide  of  land  (varying  from  80  to  120 
acres  in  different  counties)  in  Aldintone  (sic)  as  among  the 
Abbey  possessions  at  the  time  of  the  Norman  Conquest. 

Abbot  Randulf,  who  died  in  1229,  built  a  grange  at 
Aldington,  and  bought  Aldington  mill,  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  III.,  when  the  hamlet  was  a  berewic  or  corn  farm 
held  by  the  Abbey;  and  at  tiie  time  of  the  Dissolution  it 
w^as  granted  to  Sir  Philip  Hoby,  who  appears  to  have  been 
an  intimate  of  Henry  VIII.,  together  with  the  Abbey 
buildings  themselves  and  much  of  its  other  landed  property. 

The  Manor  remained  in  the  hands  of  the  Hoby  family 
for  many  years,  and  was  one  of  Sir  Philip's  principal  seats. 
Freestone  from  the  Abbey  ruins  seems  to  have  been  largely 
used  for  additions  probably  made  in  the  reign  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  for  in  some  alterations  I  made  about  1888,  I 
found  many  carved  and  moulded  stones,  built  into  the  walls, 
evidently  the  remains  of  arches  from  an  ecclesiastical 
building,  and  Sir  Philip  Hoby  is  known  to  have  treated  the 
Abbey  ruins  as  if  they  were  nothing  better  than  a  stone 
quarry. 

Leland,  who  by  command  of  Henry  VIII.  visited  Evesham 
very  soon  after  the  Dissolution,  says  that  there  was  "  noe 
towene  "  at  Evesham  before  the  foundation  of  the  Abbey, 
and  the  earliest  mention  of  a  bridge  there  is  recorded  in 
monastic  chronicles  in  1159. 

There  is  a  notice  of  a  Mr.  Richard  Hoby,  youngest 
brother  of  Sir  Philip,  as  churchwarden  in  1602,  and  a  monu- 
ment, much  dilapidated,  is  to  be  seen  in  the  chancel  of 
Badsey  Church,  erected  to  the  memory  of  his  wife  and  that 


THE  MANOR  HOUSE 


of  her  first  husband  by  Margaret  Newman,  their  daughter, 
who  married  Richard  Delabere  of  Southam,  Warwickshire, 
in  1608.  Aldington  afterwards  became  the  property  of  Sir 
Peter  Courtene,  who  was  created  a  baronet  in  1622. 

Another  explanation  of  the  origin  of  the  carved  and 
moulded  stones  mentioned  above  may  be  found  in  the 
former  existence  of  a  chapel  at  Aldington,  for  there  is 
evidence  that  a  chapel  existed  there  immediately  before  the 
Dissolution.  In  an  article  in  Badsey  Parish  Magazine  by 
Mr.  E.  A.  B.  Barnard,  F.S.  A.,  brought  to  my  notice  by  the 
editor,  the  Rev.  W.  C.  Allsebrook,  Vicar,  details  are  given 
of  the  will  of  Richard  Yardley  of  Awnton  (Aldington),  dated 
January  22, 1531,  in  which  the  following  bequests  are  made : 

To  the  Mother  Church  of  Evesham,  2s. 
To  the  Church  of  Badsey,  a  strike  of  wheat. 
To  the  Church  of  Wykamford,  one  strike  of  barley. 
To  the  Chappell  at  Awnton,  one  hog,  one  strike  of  wheat,  and 
one  strike  of  barley. 

The  chapel,  however,  disappeared,  and  seems  to  have  been 
superseded  by  the  assignment  of  the  transept  of  Badsey 
Church  as  the  Aldington  Chapel,  and  in  1561-62  the  first 
churchwarden  for  Aldington  was  elected  at  Badsey.  The 
assignment  may,  however,  have  been  only  a  return  to  a 
much  earlier  similar  arrangement  when  the  transept  was 
added  to  Badsey  Church  about  the  end  of  the  thirteenth 
century,  possibly  expressly  as  a  chapel  for  Aldington. 

That  it  was  an  addition  is  proved  by  the  remains  of  the 
arch  over  a  small  Norman  window  in  the  north  wall  of  the 
nave,  which  had  to  be  cut  into  to  allow  of  the  opening  into 
the  new  transept.  A  shelf  or  ledge  is  still  to  be  seen  in  the 
east  wall  of  the  transept,  probably  the  remains  of  a  super- 
altar,  and,  to  the  right  of  it,  a  piscina  on  the  north  side  of 
the  chancel  arch,  and  therefore  inside  the  transept. 

A  large  square  pew  and  a  smaller  one  behind  it  in  the 
transept  were  for  centuries  the  recognized  seats  of  the 
Aldington  Manor  family  and  their  servants,  and  so  remained 
until  the  restoration  of  the  church  in  1885,  when  the  pews 
were  taken  down  and  a  row  of  chairs  as  near  as  possible  to 


AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


the  old  position  was  allotted  for  the  use  of  the  same  occu- 
pants. 

In  1685  the  Jarrett  monument  was  placed  immediately 
over  the  larger  pew  in  the  east  wall  of  the  transept,  bearing 
the  following  inscription: 

Near  tliis  place  lies  interred  in  hope 
of  a  joyful  Resurrection  the  bodies  of 

WILLIAM  JARRETT 

of  Aldington  in  this  Parish  Gent,  aged  73 

years,  who  died  Anno  Domini  1G81 

and  of  Jane  his  wife  tlie  daughter  of  William 

Wattson  of  Bengewortb  Gent,  who  died 

Anno  Domini  1683,  aged  73  years, 

by  whom  he  had  Issue  three  Sons 

and  two  Daughters.     Tliomas  Augustin  and 

Jane  ley  buried  here  witli  them  and 

Mary  the  youngest  Daughter  Married         ' 

Humphrey  Mayo  of  hope  in  the  County 

of  Herreford  Gent,  and  William 

the  Eldest  Son  Marchant  in  London 

set  this  Monument  in  a  dutiful 

and  affectionate  memory  of  them  1685. 

It  is  pleasant  to  think  of  William,  the  eldest  son,  "  mar- 
chant,"  returning  in  his  prosperity  to  the  quiet  old  village, 
braving  the  dangers  and  inconveniences  of  unenclosed  and 
miry  roads,  and  riding  the  100  odd  miles  on  horseback,  to 
revisit  the  scenes  of  his  childhood,  in  order  to  do  honour  to 
the  memories  of  his  father  and  mother.  What  a  contrast 
to  the  crowded  streets  of  London  the  old  place  must  have 
presented,  and  one  has  an  idea  that  perhaps  he  regretted, 
in  spite  of  his  success  in  commerce,  that  he  had  not  elected 
in  his  younger  days  to  pursue  the  simple  life. 

The  monument  is  a  somewhat  elaborate  white  marble 
tablet  with  a  plump  cherub  on  guard,  and  with  many  of  the 
scrolls  and  convolutions  typical  of  the  Carolean  and  later 
Jacobean  taste.  This  monument  was  removed  to  the  north 
wall  of  the  nave  two  centuries  later,  in  1885,  when  the  church 
was  restored,  to  allow  of  access  to  the  new  vestry  then  added. 

William  Jarrett,  senr.,  and  his  vnfe  lived  through  the 
very  stirring  times  of  the  Civil  War  in  the  reign  of  Charles  I., 
about  twenty  miles  only  from  Edgehill,  where,  in  1642, 


THE  FARM 


twelve  hundred  men  are  reported  to  have  fallen.  It  is 
said  that  on  the  night  of  the  anniversary  of  the  battle, 
October  23,  in  each  succeeding  year  the  uneasy  ghosts  of  the 
combatants  resume  the  unfinished  struggle,  and  that  the 
clash  of  arms  is  still  to  be  heard  rising  and  falling  between 
hill  and  vale.  The  worthy  couple  must  have  almost 
heard  the  echoes  of  the  Battle  of  Worcester  in  1651,  only 
eighteen  miles  distant,  and  have  been  well  acquainted  with 
the  details  of  the  flight  of  Charles  II.,  who,  after  he  left 
Boscobel,  passed  very  near  Aldington  on  his  way  to  the  old 
house  at  Long  Marston,  where  he  spent  a  night,  and,  to 
complete  his  disguise,  turned  the  kitchen  spit.  This  old 
house  is  still  standing,  and  is  regarded  with  reverence. 

The  cherub  on  the  Jarrett  tablet  bears  a  strong  resem- 
blance to  two  similar  cherubs  which  support  a  royal  crown 
carved  on  the  back  of  an  old  walnut  chair  which  I  bought  in 
the  village  in  a  cottage  near  the  Manor  House.  The  design 
is  well  known  as  commemorating  the  restoration  of 
Charles  II.  in  1660,  and  I  like  to  fhink  that  in  bringing  it  back 
I  restored  it  to  its  old  home,  and  that  William  Jarrett,  senr., 
who  was  doubtless  a  Royalist,  enjoyed  a  peaceful  pipe  on 
many  a  winter's  night  therein  enthroned.  I  noticed,  lately, 
in  a  description  of  a  similar  chair  in  the  Connoisseur,  that 
the  cherubs  are  spoken  of  as  amorini  ;  I  have  always  under- 
stood that  they  are  angelic  beings  supporting  or  guarding 
the  sacred  crown  of  the  martyred  King,  though  possibly  the 
appellation  is  not  unsuitable  if  they  are  to  be  regarded  in 
connection  with  Charles  II.  alone. 

There  is  a  story  of  a  hosiery  factory  established  by  refugee 
Huguenots  at  the  date  of  the  Revocation  of  the  Edict  of 
Nantes,  1685,  and  the  Jacobean  building  adjoining  the 
east  end  of  the  Manor  House  is  probably  the  place  referred 
to.  Later  it  became  a  malthouse,  and  later  still  was  con- 
verted into  hop-kilns  by  me.  Being  of  Huguenot  descent 
myself,  I  take  a  special  interest  in  this  tradition. 

In  1715  Aldington  took  its  part  in  preparing  to  resist 
the  Jacobites,  and  the  following  record  is  copied  from  an 
old  manuscript : 


AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


A  Bill  for  y«  Constable  of  Anton  dun  by  me  Wm.  Phipps. 


1  musket  and  bayonet 
1  cartridg  box  at 

1  belt  at 

for  1  scubard  and  cleaning  y"=  blad  and  blaking  y«=  hilt 


Three  days  pay 
half  A  pound  of  pouder 
for  y«  muster  master 
for  listing  money   . . 
for  drums  and  cullers 


(On  the  back.) 


Thos  Rock  Con'^ie 


1  12  0 

0  7  6 

0  0  8 

0  0  6 

0  10 

0  3  0 

2  4  8 

0  12  8 


(In)  a  True  Account  of  y"  Consw-  of  Aldington  charges  for  y« 
yeare  171 «  nov.  y«  7  &  8  1715  y»  charges  for  atending  as  cons"*- 

S.    d. 
bringing  in  y«  Train  souldiers     . .  . .  . .  ..30 

spent  when  y«  soulders  whent  to  Worcester    . .  . .     16 

One  can  picture  the  scene  in  the  little  hamlet  as  Thomas 
Rock  collected  his  forces  at  the  gossip  corner;  the  little 
crowd  of  admiring  villagers  and  the  martial  bearing  of  the 
one  recruit,  as  with  "  cullers  "  flying  and  drums  beating 
he  marched  away,  followed  by  the  village  children  to  the 
end  of  the  lane. 

William  Tindal,  in  his  History  of  Evesham,  1794,  records 
the  fact  that  in  1790  Aldington  belonged  to  Lord  Foley, 
but  history  is  silent  as  to  local  events  from  that  date  until 
modem  times,  when,  in  the  first  half  of  the  next  century, 
the  Manor  became  the  property  of  an  ancestor  of  the  present 
owner.  There  is  a  tradition  that  the  Manor  House  was  a 
small  but  beautiful  old  building,  with  a  high-pitched  stone- 
slate  roof  and  three  gables  in  line  at  the  front;  but  these 
disappeared,  the  pitch  of  the  roof  was  reduced,  and  about 
1850  the  modern  part  of  the  house  was  added  at  the 
southern  extremity  of  the  old  structure. 

As  the  neighbouring  parish  of  Wickhamford  is  referred 
to  in  connection  with  Badsey  and  Aldington  several  times 
in  these  pages,  it  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  give  the  follow- 


THE  FARM 


ing  inscription  on  the  tombstone  of  a  member  of  the  Wash- 
ington family.  It  is  particularly  of  interest  at  the  present 
time,  more  especially  to  Americans,  and  it  has  not,  as  far 
as  I  am  aware,  previously  appeared  in  any  other  book. 

INSCRIPTION 

ON  THE  TOMBSTONE   LYING   ON  THE  NORTH 

SIDE  OF  THE  ALTAR,  IN  THE  PARISH  CHURCH 

OF  WICKHAMFORD,   NEAR  EVESHAM,   IN  THE 

COUNTY  OF  WORCESTER,  ENGLAND. 

M.   S. 

PENELOPES 

Filias  perillustiis  &  militari  virtute  clarissimi 

Henrici  Washington,  coUonelli, 
Gulielmo  Washington  ex  agro  Northampton 

Milite  prognati ; 
ob  res  bellicosas  tam  Angl :  quam  Hibernia 

fortiter,  &  feliciter  gestas, 

Illustrissimis  Principib  :  &  Regum  optimis 

Carolo  primo  et  secundo  charissimi : 

Qui  duxit  uxorem  Elizabethan!  ex  antiqua,  et 

Generosa  prosapifi  Packingtoniensium 

De  Westwood; 

Familia  intemeratae  fidei  in  principes, 

et  amoris  in  patriam. 

Ex  praeclaris  hisce  natalibus  Penelope  oriunda, 

Divini  Numinis  summa  cum  religione 

Cultrix  assidua ; 

Genetricis  (parentum  solse  superstitis) 

Ingens  Solatium; 

aegrotantib.  et  egentib.  mira  promptitudine 

Liberalis  et  benefica; 

Humilis  &  casta,  et  soli  Christo  nupta  ; 

Ex  hac  vlt^  caduca  ad  sponsum  migravit 

Febr.  27  An.  Dom.  1697. 


10  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


[  Translation] 

INSCRIPTION 

ON  THE  TOMBSTONE  LYING  ON  THE  NORTH 

SIDE  OF  THE  ALTAR,  IN  THE  PARISH  CHURCH 

OF  WICKHAMFORD,  NEAR  EVESHAM,  IN  THE 

COUNTY  OF  WORCESTER,  ENGLAND. 

Sacred  to  the  memory  of 
PENELOPE, 

daughter  of  that  renowned  and  distinguished 
soldier,  Colonel  Henry  Washington.  He  was 
descended  from  Sir  William  Washington, 
Knight,  of  the  county  of  Northampton,  who 
was  highly  esteemed  by  those  most  illustrious 
Princes  and  best  of  Kings,  Charles  the  First 
and  Second,  for  his  valiant  and  successful  war- 
like deeds  both  in  England  and  in  Ireland : 
he  married  Elizabeth,  of  the  ancient  and 
noble  stock  of  the  Packingtons  of  Westwood, 
a  family  of  untarnished  fidelity  to  its  Prince 
and  love  to  its  country.  Sprung  from  such 
illustrious  ancestry,  Penelope  was  a  diligent 
and  pious  worshipper  of  her  Heavenly  Father, 
She  was  the  consolation  of  her  mother,  her 
only  surviving  parent ;  a  prompt  and  liberal 
benefactress  of  the  sick  and  poor ;  humble  and 
pure  in  spirit,  and  wedded  to  Christ  alone. 

From  this  fleeting  life  she  migrated 

to  her  Spouse, 

February  27,  Anno  Domini^  i6()j. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  FARM  BAILIFF 

•'  If  a  job  has  to  be  done  you  may  as  well  do  it  first  as  last." 

William  Bell. 

The  labourers  born  and  bred  in  the  Vale  of  Evesham  are 
mostly  tall  and  powerful  men,  and  mine  were  no  exception; 
where  the  land  is  good  the  men  compare  favourably  in  size 
and  strength  with  those  in  less  favoured  localities,  and  the 
same  applies  to  the  horses,  cattle,  and  sheep;  but  the  Vale, 
with  its  moist  climate,  does  not  produce  such  ruddy  com- 
plexions as  the  clear  air  of  the  Hills,  and  even  the  apples 
tell  the  same  story  in  their  less  brilliant  colouring,  except 
after  an  unusually  sunny  summer.  In  the  days  of  the 
"Whitsuntide  gatherings  for  games  of  various  kinds,  sports, 
and  contests  of  strength,  the  Vale  men  excelled,  and  certain 
parishes,  famous  for  the  growth  of  the  best  wheat,  are  still 
remembered  as  conspicuously  successful. 

My  men,  though  grown  up  before  education  became 
compulsory,  could  all  read  and  write,  and  they  were  in  no 
way  inferior  to  the  young  men  of  the  present  day.  They 
were  highly  skilled  in  all  the  more  difficult  agricultural 
operations,  and  it  was  easy  to  find  among  them  good 
thatchers,  drainers,  hedgers,  ploughmen,  and  stockmen; 
they  were,  mostly,  married,  with  families  of  young  children, 
and  they  lived  close  to  their  work  in  the  cottages  that  went 
with  the  farm.  They  exhibited  the  variations,  usual  in  all 
communities,  of  character  and  disposition,  and  though 
somewhat  prejudiced  and  wedded  to  old  methods  and 
customs  they  were  open  to  reason,  loyal,  and  anxious  to  see 
the  land  better  farmed  and  restored  to  the  condition  in 
which  the  late  tenant  found  it,  when  entering  upon  his 
occupation  seven  years  previously. 

11 


12  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


The  late  tenant,  my  predecessor,  though  a  gentleman 
and  a  pleasant  man  to  deal  with,  was  no  farmer  for  such 
strong  and  heavy  land  as  the  farm  presented;  it  was  no 
fault  of  his,  for  the  farmer,  like  the  poet,  is  born,  not  made, 
and,  as  I  was  often  told,  he  was  "  nobody's  enemy  but  his 
own."  His  wife  came  of  a  good  old  stock  of  shorthorn 
breeders  whose  name  is  known  and  honoured,  not  only 
at  home,  but  throughout  the  United  States  of  America, 
our  Dominions,  and  wherever  the  shorthorn  has  established 
a  reputation;  and  my  men  were  satisfied  that  she  was  the 
better  farmer  of  the  two. 

I  had  scarcely  bargamed  for  the  foul  condition  of  the 
stubbles,  disclosed  when  the  corn  was  harvested  shortly 
before  I  took  possession  at  Michaelmas;  they  were  over- 
run with  couch  grass — locally  called  "  squitch  " — and  the 
following  summer  I  had  40  acres  of  bare-fallow,  repeatedly 
ploughed,  harrowed,  and  cultivated  throughout  the 
whole  season,  which,  of  course,  produced  nothing  by  way 
of  return.  My  predecessor  had  found  that  his  arable  land 
was  approaching  a  condition  in  which  it  was  difficult  to 
continue  the  usual  course  of  cropping,  and  had  expressed 
his  wish  to  one  of  the  men  that  all  the  arable  was  grass. 
He  was  answered,  I  was  told:  "  If  you  goes  on  as  you  be 
a-going  it  very  soon  will  be  !"  I  heard,  moreover,  that  a 
farming  relative  of  his,  on  inspecting  the  farm,  shortly 
before  he  gave  it  up,  had  pronounced  his  opinion  that  it 
was  "  all  going  to  the  devil  in  a  gale  of  wind  !" 

I  soon  recognized  that  I  had  a  splendid  staff  of  workers, 
and,  under  advice  fi'om  the  late  tenant,  I  selected  one  to  be 
foreman  or  bailiff.  Blue-eyed,  dark-haired,  tall,  lean,  and 
muscular,  he  was  the  picture  of  energy,  in  the  prime  of 
life.  Straightforward,  unselfish,  a  natural  leader  of  men, 
courageous  and  untiring,  he  immediately  became  devoted 
to  me,  and  remained  my  right  hand,  my  dear  friend,  and 
adviser  in  the  practical  working  of  the  farm,  throughout 
the  twenty  years  that  followed.  Like  many  of  the  agri- 
cultural labourers,  his  remote  ancestors  belonged  to  a  class 
higher  in  the  social  scale,  and  there  were  traditions  of  a 


THE  FARM  BAILIFF  18 


property  in  the  county  and  a  family  vault  in  Pershore 
Abbey  Church.  However  this  might  be,  William  Bell  was 
one  of  Nature's  gentlemen,  and  it  was  apparent  in  a  variety 
of  ways  in  his  daily  life. 

Shortly  before  my  coming  to  Aldington  he  had  received 
a  legacy  of  £150,  which,  without  any  legal  necessity  or 
outside  suggestion,  he  had  in  fairness,  as  he  considered  it, 
divided  equally  between  his  brother,  his  sister  and  himself — 
£50  each — and  his  share  was  on  deposit  at  a  bank.  Seeing 
that  I  was  young — I  was  then  twenty-two — and  imagining 
that  some  additional  capital  would  be  useful  after  all  my 
outlay  in  stocking  the  farm  and  furnishing  the  house,  he, 
greatly  to  my  surprise  and  delight,  offered  in  a  little  speech 
of  much  delicacy  to  lend  me  his  £50.  I  w^as  immensely 
touched  at  such  a  practical  mark  of  sympathy  and  confi- 
dence, but  was  able  to  assure  him  gratefully  that,  for  the 
present  at  any  rate,  I  could  manage  without  it.  On  another 
occasion,  after  a  bad  season,  he  voluntarily  asked  me  to 
reduce  his  wages,  to  which  of  course  I  did  not  see  my 
way  to  agree. 

Bell  was  always  ready  with  a  smart  reply  to  anyone 
inclined  to  rally  him,  or  whom  he  thought  inclined  to  do 
so;  but  his  method  was  inoffensive,  though  from  most  men 
it  would  have  appeared  impertinent.  In  the  very  earliest 
days  of  my  occupation  the  weather  was  so  dry  for  the  time 
of  year — October  and  November — that  fallowing  operations, 
generally  only  possible  in  summer,  could  be  successfully 
carried  on,  a  very  unusual  circumstance  on  such  wet  and 
heavy  land.  Meeting  the  Vicar,  a  genial  soul  with  a 
pleasant  word  for  everyone,  the  latter  remarked  that  it  was 
"  rare  weather  for  the  new  farmers."  Bell,  highly  sensi- 
tive, fancied  he  scented  a  quizzing  reference  to  himself  and 
to  me,  and  knowing  that  the  Vicar's  own  land — he  was  then 
farming  the  glebe  with  a  somewhat  unskilful  bailiff — was 
getting  out  of  hand,  replied:  "  Yes,  sir;  and  not  so  bad  for 
some  of  the  old  uns."  Bell  happened  to  pass  one  day  when 
I  was  talking  to  the  Vicar  at  my  gate.  "  Hullo  !  Bell," 
said  he,  "  hard  at  work  as  usual;  nothing  like  hard  work, 


14  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


is  there  ?"  "  No,  sii',"  said  Bell;  "  I  :,upposc  that's  why 
you  chose  the  one-day-a-weck  job  !" 

Labourers  have  great  contempt  for  the  work  of  parsons, 
lawyers,  and  indoor  workers  generally;  a  farmer  who  spends 
much  time  indoors  over  correspondence  and  comes  round 
his  land  late  in  the  day  is  regarded  as  an  "  afternoon  "  or 
"  armchair  "  farmer,  and  a  tradesman  who  runs  a  small 
farm  in  addition  to  his  other  business  is  an  "  apron-string  " 
farmer.  With  some  hours  daily  employed  on  letter-wi'it- 
ing,  accounts  and  labour  records,  which  a  farm  and  the 
employment  of  many  hands  entails,  and  with  frequent  calls 
from  buyers  and  sellers,  I  was  sometimes  unable  to  visit 
men  working  on  distant  fields  until  twelve  o'clock  or  after, 
and  I  was  told  that  it  had  been  said  of  me  by  some  new 
hands,  "  why  don't  'e  come  out  and  do  some  on  it  ?" 

It  was  remarked  of  the  late  tenant,  "  I  reckon  there  was 
a  good  parson  spoiled  when  'e  was  made  a  farmer."  And 
of  a  lawyer,  who  combined  legal  practice  with  the  hobby 
of  a  small  farm,  that  there  was  no  doubt  that  "  Lawyer 
G s  kept  farmer  G s." 

Bell's  favourite  saying  was,  "  If  a  job  has  to  be  done 
you  may  as  well  do  it  first  as  last,"  and  it  was  so  strongly 
impressed  upon  me  by  his  example  that  I  think  I  have  been 
imder  its  influence,  more  or  less,  all  my  life.  He  was  certain 
to  be  to  the  fore  in  any  emergency  when  promptitude, 
courage,  and  resource  were  called  for;  he  it  was  who  dashed 
into  the  pool  below  the  mill  and  rescued  a  child,  and  when 
I  asked  if  he  had  no  sense  of  the  danger  simply  said  that 
he  never  thought  about  it.  It  was  Bell  who  tackled  a 
savage  bull  which,  by  a  mistaken  order,  was  loose  in  the 
yard,  and  which,  in  the  exuberance  of  unwonted  liberty, 
had  smashed  up  two  cow-cribs,  and  was  beginning  the 
destruction  of  a  pair  of  new  barn  doors,  left  open,  and 
offering  temptation  for  further  activity.  The  bull,  secured 
under  Bell's  leadership  and  manacled  with  a  cart-rope,  was 
induced  to  return  to  its  home  in  peace.  When  felling  a 
tall  poplar  overhanging  the  mill-pond,  it  was  necessary  to 
secure  the  tree  with  a  rope  fixed  high  up  the  trunk  and  Avith 


THE  FARM  BAILIFF  15 


a  stout  stake  driven  into  the  meadow,  to  prevent  the  tree 
falHng  into  the  pond.  Bell  was  the  volunteer  who  climbed 
the  tree  with  one  end  of  the  rope  tied  round  his  body  and 
fixed  it  in  position.  He  was  always  ready  to  undertake 
any  specially  difficult,  dirty,  or  hazardous  duty,  and  in 
giving  orders  it  was  never  "  Go  and  do  it,"  but  "  Come  on, 
let's  do  it."  An  example  of  this  sort  was  not  lost  upon  the 
men;  they  could  never  say  they  were  set  to  work  that  no- 
body else  would  do,  and  their  willing  service  acknowledged 
his  tact. 

One  day  a  -widow  tenant  asked  me  to  read  the  will  at  the 
funeral  of  an  old  woman  lying  dead  at  the  cottage  next 
her  own.  I  consented,  and  reached  the  cottage  at  the 
appointed  time.  It  was  the  custom  among  the  villagers, 
when  there  was  a  will,  to  read  it  before,  not  after,  the  cere- 
mony, as,  I  believe,  is  the  usual  course.  I  found  the  coffin 
in  the  living-room  and  the  funeral  party  assembled,  and  the 
will,  on  a  sheet  of  notepaper,  signed  and  witnessed  in  legal 
form,  was  put  into  my  hands.  Looking  it  through,  I  could 
see  that  there  would  be  trouble,  as  all  the  money  and  effects 
were  left  to  one  person  to  the  exclusion  of  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  family,  all  of  whom  were  present.  It  was  quite 
simply  expressed,  and,  after  reading  it  slowly,  I  inquired 
if  they  all  understood  its  provisions.  "  Oh  yes,"  they 
understood  it  "  well  enough."  I  could  see  that  the  tone 
of  the  reply  suggested  some  kind  of  reservation ;  I  asked  if 
I  could  do  anything  more  for  them.  The  reply  was,  "  No," 
with  their  grateful  thanks  for  my  attendance;  so,  not  being 
expected  to  accompany  the  funeral,  I  retired.  I  was  no 
sooner  gone  than  the  trouble  I  had  anticipated  began,  and 
the  disappointed  relatives  expressed  their  disapproval  of 
the  terms  of  the  will,  some  going  so  far  as  to  decline  to 
remain  for  the  ceremony.  Bell  was  not  among  the  guests 
or  the  bearers,  but,  hearing  raised  voices  at  the  cottage  and 
guessing  the  cause,  he  boldly  went  to  the  spot,  and  in  a 
few  moments  had,  with  the  approval  of  the  sole  legatee, 
arranged  an  equal  division  of  the  money  and  goods; 
whereupon  the  whole  party  proceeded  in  procession  to  the 


16  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


church.  I  think  no  one  else  in  the  village  could  so  easily 
have  persuaded  the  favoured  individual  to  forgo  the  legal 
claim;  but  Bell  was  no  ordinary  man,  and  his  simple 
sincerity  of  purpose  was  so  apparent,  that  his  influence 
was  not  to  be  resisted.  Later  in  the  evening  a  plain,  but 
very  useful,  old  oak  chest  was  sent  to  me,  when  the  division 
of  the  furniture  was  arranged,  as  an  acknowledgment  of 
my  services  and  in  recognition  of  the  saving  of  a  lawyer's 
attendance  and  fee,  with  the  thanks  of  the  persons  con- 
cerned. I  was  loath  to  accept  it,  but  it  was  of  course 
impossible  to  refuse  such  a  delicate  attention. 

Bell's  cheerfulness  and  his  habit  of  making  light  of  diffi- 
culties were  very  contagious.  I  had  early  recognized  the 
seriousness  of  the  problem  presented  by  the  foul  condition 
of  the  land,  but,  as  we  gradually  began  to  reduce  it  to 
better  order,  I  remarked  that  the  prospect  was  not  so 
alarming  after  all.  His  reply  was  that  when  once  the  land 
was  clean,  and  in  regular  cropping,  "  a  man  might  farm 
it  with  all  the  playsure  in  life." 

Though  no  "  scholard,"  his  wonderful  memory  stood 
him  in  good  stead,  and  was  most  valuable  to  me.  He 
came  in  for  a  talk  every  evening,  to  report  the  events  of 
the  day  and  arrange  the  work  for  the  morrow.  After  a 
long  day  spent  with  one  of  the  carters  delivering  such 
things  as  faggots — locally  "  kids  " — of  wood,  he  would 
recall  the  names  of  the  recipients,  and  the  exact  quantities 
delivered  at  each  house  without  the  slightest  effort.  His 
only  memoranda  for  approximate  land  measurements 
would  be  produced  on  a  stick  with  a  notch  denoting  each 
score  yards  or  paces.  This  primitive  method  is  particu- 
larly interesting,  the  numeral  a  score  being  derived  from 
the  Anglo-Saxon  sciran,  to  divide.  Similar  words  are 
plough  share,  shire,  shears,  and  shard.  He  could  keep  the 
daily  labour  record  when  I  was  away  from  home;  but 
though  I  could  always  decipher  his  \vriting,  he  found  it 
difficult  to  read  himself.  A  letter  was  a  sore  trial,  and  he 
often  told  me  that  he  would  sooner  walk  to  "  Broddy  " 
(Broadway)  and  back,  ten  or  eleven  miles,  than  write  to  the 


THE  FARM  BAILIFF  17 


veterinary  surgeon  there,  whose  services  we  sometimes 
required. 

We  had  a  simple  method  of  disposing  of  small  pigs; 
it  was  an  understood  thing  that  no  pig  was  to  be  sold  for 
less  than  a  pound.  I  had  a  good  breed,  always  in  demand 
by  the  cottagers,  who  never  failed  to  apply,  sometimes, 
perhaps,  before  the  pound  size  was  quite  reached,  as  it  was 
a  case  of  first  come  first  served,  and  there  was  the  danger 
that  the  best  would  be  snapped  up  before  an  intending 
buyer  could  have  his  choice.  Bell's  face  was  wreathed 
in  smiles  when  he  came  in  and  unloaded  a  pocketful  of 
sovereigns  on  my  study  table,  saying,  when  trade  was 
brisk,  "  I  could  sell  myself  if  I  was  little  pigs  !" 

Many  and  anxious  were  the  deliberations  we  held  in  the 
early  days  of  my  farming;  the  whole  system  of  the  late 
tenant  was  condemned  by  my  theoretical  and  Bell's 
practical  knowledge,  but  they  did  not  invariablj^  coincide, 
and,  after  a  long  discussion  on  some  particular  point,  he 
would  yield,  though  I  could  see  that  he  was  not  convinced, 
with,  "  Well,  I  allows  you  to  know  best." 

When,  a  few  years  later,  I  introduced  hop-growing  as  a 
complete  novelty  on  the  farm,  he  regarded  it  at  first  as  an 
extravagant  and  unprofitable  hobby,  akin  to  the  hunters 
my  predecessor  kept.  He  "reckoned,"  he  said,  that  my 
hop-gardens  were  my  "  hunting  horse,"  and  I  heard  that 
my  neighbours  quoted  the  old  saw  about  "  a  fool  and  his 
money."  Bell  was  not  so  enlightened  as  to  be  quite  proof 
against  local  superstitions;  I  had  to  consult  his  almanac 
and  find  out  when  the  "  moon  southed,"  and  when  certain 
planets  were  in  favourable  conjunction,  before  he  would 
undertake  some  quite  ordinary  farm  operations. 

He  was  a  clever  and  courageous  bee-master,  and  "  took  " 
all  my  neighbours'  swarms  as  well  as  my  own,  my  gardener 
not  being  persona  grata  to  bees.  The  job  is  not  a  popular 
one,  and  he  would,  when  accompanied  by  the  owner, 
always  ask,  "  Will  you  hold  the  ladder  or  hive  'em  ?" 
The  invariable  answer  was,  *'  Hold  the  ladder."  He  firmly 
believed  in  the  necessity  of  telling  the  bees  in  cases  where 

2 


18  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


the  owner  had  died,  the  superstition  being  that  unless  the 
hive  was  tapped  after  dark,  when  all  were  at  home,  and  a 
set  form  of  announcement  repeated,  the  bees  would  desert 
their  quarters.  I  had  an  alarming  experience  once  with 
bees  when  cycling  between  Ringwood  and  Burley  in  the 
New  Forest,  my  present  home.  As  I  passed  a  house  close 
to  the  road,  a  swarm  crossed  my  path,  rising  from  their  hive 
just  as  I  reached  the  hedge  before  the  garden.  There  was 
a  mighty  humming,  and  I  felt  the  bees,  with  which  I  was 
colliding,  striking  my  hands  and  face  with  some  violence. 
I  expected  a  sting  each  moment,  but  my  greatest  fear  was 
lest  the  queen  should  have  settled  on  my  coat  amongst  the 
bees  it  had  collected,  and  that  presently  I  should  have  the 
whole  swarm  in  possession.  It  was  dangerous  to  stop,  so 
I  raced  on  some  distance,  dismounted,  discarded  my  coat, 
shaking  off  my  unwelcome  fellow-travellers,  and  I  was  much 
surprised  to  find  that  none  of  them  retaliated. 

Bell  was  an  excellent  brewer,  and  with  good  malt  and 
some  of  our  own  hops  could  produce  a  nice  light  bitter  beer 
at  a  very  moderate  cost.  In  years  when  cider  was  scarce 
we  supplemented  the  men's  short  allowance  with  beer, 
4  bushels  of  malt  to  100  gallons;  and  for  years  he  brewed 
a  superior  drink  for  the  household,  which,  consumed  in 
much  smaller  quantities  and  requiring  to  be  kept  longer, 
was  double  the  strength.  His  methods  were  not  scientific, 
and  he  scorned  the  use  of  a  "  theometer,"  his  rule  being 
that  the  hot  water  was  cool  enough  for  the  addition  of 
the  malt  when  the  steam  was  sufficiently  gone  off  to 
allow  him  "  to  see  his  face  "  on  the  surface. 

Owing  to  his  having  lived  so  long  in  such  a  quiet  place, 
and  the  limited  outlook  which  his  surroundings  had  so  far 
afforded,  Bell  was  somewhat  wanting  in  the  sense  of  pro- 
portion, and  when  I  had  a  field  of  10  acres  planted  with 
potatoes,  he  told  me  quite  seriously  that  he  doubted  if  the 
crop  could  ever  be  sold,  as  he  didn't  think  there  were  enough 
people  in  the  country  to  eat  them  !  I  remember  a  parallel 
incident  at  the  first  auction  sale  of  stock  ever  held  at 
Chipping  Campden,  a  lovely  old  town  and,  for  centuries 


THE  FARM  BAILIFF  19 


now  long  past,  a  leading  centre  of  the  Cotswold  wool 
trade.  The  pens,  in  the  wide  spaces  between  the  road 
and  the  footways,  were,  as  I  stood  watching,  rapidly 
filling  with  fat  sheep,  and,  I  suppose,  the  scene  being  so 
novel  and  so  animated,  the  interest  of  the  inhabitants 
was  greatly  excited,  as  they  stood  in  little  groups  at 
the  house  doors  looking  on.  I  heard  an  ancient  dame 
marvelling  at  the  numbers  of  sheep  collected — probably 
only  1,000  or  1,200  all  told — and  expressing  her  certainty 
of  the  impossibility  of  finding  mouths  enough  to  consume 
such  a  mass  of  mutton.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  were,  I 
suppose,  four  or  five  large  dealers  present,  any  one  of  whom 
would  have  bought  every  sheep,  could  he  have  seen  a  fair 
chance  of  a  possible  profit  of  threepence  a  head;  to  say 
nothing  of  innumerable  smaller  dealers  and  retail  butchers, 
good  for  a  score  or  two  apiece.  What  I  may  call  the  paro- 
chial horizon  is  well  illustrated,  too,  by  the  announcement 
of  a  domestic  economist:  "  Farmer  Jones  lost  two  calves 
last  week;  I  reckon  we  shall  have  beef  a  lot  dearer."  And 
again  by  the  recommendation  of  a  shrewd  and  ancient 
husbandman  of  my  acquaintance  that  it  was  desirable  for 
any  young  farmer  to  get  away  from  home  and  visit  the 
county  town  sometimes,  at  any  rate  on  market  days,  and 
attend  the  "  ordinary  "  dinner,  even  if  it  cost  him  a  few 
shillings — "  for  there,"  he  added,  "  you  med  stick  and  stick 
and  stick  at  home  until  you  knows  nothin'  at  all." 
Shakespeare  puts  the  matter  more  tersely,  if  less  forcibly, 
"  Home-keeping  youth  have  ever  homely  wits."  I  cannot 
forbear,  too,  the  temptation  to  recall  PuncJis  picture  at 
the  time  of  King  George's  coronation.  The  scene  depicted 
two  rustics  gossiping  at  the  parish  pump,  as  to  the  forth- 
coming village  festivities,  and  the  squire's  carriage  with  the 
squire  and  his  family,  followed  by  the  luggage  cart,  on 
their  way  to  the  railway  station : 

First  Rustic.  Where  be  them  folks  a-goin'  to,  I  wonder  ? 

Second  Rustic.  Off  to  Lunnon,  I  reckon,  but  they'll  be 
back  for  the  Cor-o-nation. 

Soon  after  the  reopening  of  the  church  I  overtook  Bell 


20  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

as  we  were  returning  from  Sunday  morning  service.  It 
was  a  dark  day,  and  the  pulpit,  having  been  moved  from 
the  south  to  the  north  side  of  the  nave — farther  from  the 
windows — the  clerk  lighted  the  desk  candles  before  the 
Vicar  began  his  sermon.  I  asked  Bell  how  he  liked  the 
service,  referring  to  the  new  choir  and  music;  he  hesitated, 
not  wanting,  as  I  was  the  Vicar's  churchwarden,  to  appear 
critical,  but  being  too  conscientious  to  disguise  his  feelings. 
I  could  see  that  he  was  troubled,  and  asked  what  was  the 
matter.  Then  it  came  out;  it  was  "them  candles!" 
which  he  took  to  be  part  of  the  ritual,  and  he  added, 
"  But  you  ain't  a-goin'  to  make  a  Papist  of  me  !" 

Bell  was  proof  against  attempted  bribery,  and  often  came 
chuckling  to  me  over  his  refusals  of  dishonest  proposals. 
A  man  from  whom  I  used  to  buy  large  quantities  of  hop- 
poles  required  some  withy  "bonds"  for  tying  faggots; 
they  are  sold  at  a  price  per  bundle  of  100,  and  the  applicant 
suggested  that  120  should  be  placed  in  each  bundle.  Bell 
was  to  receive  a  recognition  for  his  complicity  in  the  fraud, 
and  he  agreed  on  condition  that  in  my  next  deal  for  hop- 
poles  100  should  be  represented  by  120  in  like  manner. 
The  bargain  did  not  materialize. 

I  found  Bell  a  very  amusing  companion  in  walks  and 
excursions  we  took  to  fairs  and  sales  for  the  purchase  of 
stock.  He  knew  the  histories  and  peculiarities  of  all  the 
farmers  and  country  people  whose  land  or  houses  we  passed, 
and  his  stories  made  the  miles  very  short.  I  often  helped 
with  driving  sheep  and  cattle  home,  and  their  persistence 
in  taking  all  the  wrong  turnings  or  in  doubling  back  was 
surprising;  but  two  drovers  are  much  more  efficient  than 
one,  and  we  got  to  know  exactly  where  they  would  need 
circumventing.  When  we  visited  a  town  I  always  took 
him  to  an  inn  or  restaurant  and  gave  him  a  good  dinner. 
Visiting  what  was  then  a  much-frequented  dining-place — 
Mountford's,  at  Worcester,  near  the  cathedral — we  sat 
next  to  a  well-known  hon.  and  rev.  scholar  of  eccentric 
habits.  He  would  read  abstractedly,  forgetting  his  food 
for  several  minutes,  then  suddenly  would  make  a  noisy 


THE  FARM  BAILIFF  21 


dash  for  knife  and  fork,  resuming  the  meal  with  great  energy 
for  a  while,  and  as  suddenly  relinquish  the  implements 
and  return  to  his  reading,  and  so  on  continuously.  I 
noticed  Bell  watching  with  great  surprise,  much  shocked 
at  such  unusual  table  manners,  and  presently  he  could  not 
forbear  very  gently  nudging  my  elbow  to  draw  my  attention 
to  the  performance. 

Mountford's  was  celebrated  for  succulent  veal  cutlets 
with  fried  bacon  and  tomato  sauce,  also  for  Severn  salmon 
and  lamperns;  visitors  to  the  cathedral  and  china  works 
generally  refreshed  themselves  there,  and  it  was  amusing  to 
watch  their  exhausted  and  grim  looks  when  entering  and 
waiting,  in  comparison  with  their  beaming  smiles  when 
confessing  their  indulgences  on  leaving;  for  no  bills  were 
rendered,  and  guests  were  trusted  to  remember  the  details 
consumed.  You  will  always  find  the  best  eating-houses 
near  the  cathedrals;  vergers'  recitals  are  apt  to  be  long- 
winded,  and  visitors  require  speedy  refreshment  after  a 
complete  round. 

It  was  a  popular  village  belief  that  bad  luck  follows 
if  a  woman  was  the  first  to  enter  a  house  on  Christmas 
morning,  and  Bell  always  made  a  point  of  being  the  first 
over  my  threshold,  shouting  loudly  his  greetings  up  the 
staircase. 

Bell's  wife  survived  him,  living  on  in  the  same  cottage 
in  which  he  was  born  and  had  passed  his  life.  She  was  a 
hard-working  woman,  and  came  over  to  my  house  once  a 
week  for  some  years  to  bake  the  bread,  made  from  my 
o^vn  wheat  ground  at  the  village  mill.  It  was  somewhat 
dark  in  colour,  owing  to  the  most  nutritious  parts  of 
the  grain  being  retained  in  the  flour,  but  it  was  deliciously 
sweet  and  kept  fresh  for  the  whole  week.  I  only  wish 
everyone  could  enjoy  the  same  sort;  the  modern  bread  is 
poor  stuff  by  comparison,  and  its  lack  of  nutritive  value  is 
undoubtedly  the  cause  of  much  of  the  poor  physique  of  our 
rural  and  urban  population  at  the  present  time. 

I  had  a  very  human  dog.  Viper,  partly  fox-terrier; 
though  not  very  "  well  bred,"  his  manners  were  unexcep- 


22  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


tionable  and  his  cleverness  extraordinary.  One  summer 
afternoon  Mrs.  Bell  was  greatly  surprised  by  Viper  coming 
to  her  house  much  distressed  and  trying  to  tell  her  the 
reason;  he  was  not  to  be  put  off  or  comforted,  and,  seizing 
her  skirts,  he  dragged  her  to  the  door  and  outside.  She 
guessed  at  once  that  her  two  boys  were  in  some  danger, 
and  she  followed  the  dog.  He  kept  turning  round  to  make 
sure  that  she  was  close  behind,  and  led  her  down  a  lane,  for 
perhaps  300  yards,  to  a  gate  leading  into  a  12-acre  pasture. 
They  pursued  the  footpath  across  the  field,  through  another 
gate  and  over  the  bridge  which  spanned  the  brook,  into  a 
meadow  beyond.  There  she  found  the  children  in  fear  of 
their  lives  from  the  antics  of  two  mischievous  colts  which 
were  capering  round  them  with  many  snorts  and  much 
upturning  of  heels.  It  was  really  only  play,  but  the  boys 
were  alarmed,  and  Viper,  who  had  accompanied  them,  had 
evidently  concluded  that  they  were  in  danger. 

Before  the  days  of  the  safety  bicycle  an  excellent  tri- 
cycle, called  the  "  omnicycle,"  was  put  on  the  market;  and 
the  villagers  were  greatly  excited  over  one  I  purchased, 
of  course  only  for  road  work,  expecting  me  to  use  it  on  my 
farming  rounds;  and  Mrs.  Bell  was  heard  to  say,  "  I  knows 
I  shall  laugh  when  I  sees  the  master  a-coming  round  the 
farm  on  that  thing." 

Bell  always  spoke  of  her  as  "  my  'ooman,"  and,  refer- 
ring to  the  depletion  of  their  exchequer  on  her  returns  from 
marketing  in  Evesham,  often  said,  "  I  don't  care  who  robs 
my  'ooman  this  side  of  the  elm  " — a  notable  tree  about 
halfway  between  the  town  and  the  village — knowing  that 
she  would  then  have  very  little  change  left. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  HOP  FOREMAN  AND  THE  HOP  DRIER 

"  Oft  did  the  harvest  to  their  sickle  yield, 

How  bowed  the  woods  beneath  their  sturdy  stroke." 

Gray's  Elegy. 

Jarge  was  one  of  the  most  prominent  characters  among 
my  men.  He  was  not  a  native  of  the  Vale,  coming  from 
the  Lynches,  a  hilly  district  to  the  north  of  Evesham. 
He  was  a  sturdy  and  very  excellent  workman.  He  did 
with  his  might  whatsoever  his  hand  found  to  do,  and  every- 
thing he  undertook  was  a  success.  The  beautifully  trimmed 
hedge  in  front  of  his  cottage-garden  proclaimed  his  method 
and  love  of  order  at  a  glance.  Jarge  was  a  wag;  he  was 
the  man  who,  like  Shakespeare's  clowns,  stepped  on  to  the 
stage  at  the  critical  moment  and  saved  a  serious  situation 
with  a  quaint  or  epigrammatic  expression. 

He  was  very  scornful  of  the  condition  of  the  farm  when 
I  came,  and  it  was  he,  whose  reply  to  the  late  tenant 
that  his  arable  land  would  soon  be  all  grass,  I  have  already 
quoted.  In  speaking  to  me,  at  almost  our  first  interview, 
he  could  not  refrain  from  an  allusion  to  the  foulness  of 
the  land;  some  peewits  were  circling  over  those  neglected 
fields,  and  it  was  far  from  reassuring  to  be  told — though  he 
did  not  intend  to  discourage  me — that  "  folks  say,  when 
you  sees  them  things  on  the  land,  the  farm's  broke  !" 

From  the  natural  history  point  of  view  he  was  perfectly 
correct,  as  peewits  generally  frequent  wild  and  un- 
cultivated places  where  the  ploughman  and  the  labourer 
are  rarely  seen. 

Owing  to  the  somewhat  unconvincing  fact  of  his  wife's 
brother  being  a  gamekeeper  on  the  Marquis's  estate  near 

23 


24  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

Jarge's  native  village,  he  had  acquired,  and  retained  through 
all  the  years  of  my  farming,  a  sporting  reputation;  he  was 
always  the  man  selected  for  trapping  any  evil  beast  or 
bird  that  might  be  worrying  us;  and  when  the  cherries  were 
beginning  to  show  ruddy  complexions  in  the  sunshine,  and 
the  starlings  and  blackbirds  were  becoming  troublesome, 
armed  with  an  old  muzzle-loader  of  mine,  he  made  inces- 
sant warfare  against  them,  and  his  gun  could  be  heard  as 
early  as  five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  while  the  shots  would 
often  come  pattering  down  harmlessly  on  my  greenhouse. 
There  came  a  time  when  some  thieving  carrion  crows  were 
robbing  my  half-tame  wild  duck's  nests  of  their  eggs,  and 
Jarge  was,  of  course,  detailed  to  tackle  them.  Weeks 
elapsed  without  any  result;  the  depredations  continued, 
and  the  men  began  to  chaff  him;  finally  Bell  "  put  the  lid 
on,"  as  people  say  nowadays,  by  the  following  sally: 
*'  Ah,  Jarge,  if  ever  thee  catches  a  craw  'twill  be  one  as  was 
hatched  from  an  addled  egg  !" 

For  weeks  before  harvest  Jarge  patrolled  my  wheat- 
fields,  crowds  of  sparrows  rising  and  dispersing  for  a  time 
after  every  shot,  only,  I  fear,  to  foregather  again  very  soon 
on  another  field,  perhaps  half  a  mile  distant.  No  doubt 
he  sent  some  to  my  neighbours  in  return  for  those  which 
they  sent  to  me. 

Jarge  was  an  instance  of  superior  descent;  his  surname 
was  that  of  an  ancient  and  prominent  county  family  in 
former  days;  he  carried  himself  with  dignity  and  was 
generally  respected;  he  possessed  the  power  of  very  minute 
observation,  and  was  of  all  others  the  man  to  find  coins  or 
other  small  leavings  of  Roman  and  former  occupiers  of 
my  land.  His  eldest  daughter  was  a  charming  girl,  and, 
when  Jarge  became  a  widower,  she  made  a  most  efficient 
mistress  of  his  household.  She  showed,  too,  quite  un- 
mistakably her  descent  from  distinguished  ancestry.  Tall, 
clear-complexioned,  graceful,  dignified,  and  rather  serious, 
but  with  a  sweet  smile,  she  was  a  daughter  of  whom  any 
man  might  have  been  proud.  To  my  thinking,  she  was 
the  belle  of  the  village,  and  she  made  a  very  pretty  picture 


THE  HOP  FOREMAN  AND  THE  HOP  DRIER   25 

in  her  sun-bonnet,  among  the  green  and  golden  tracery  of 
the  hop-bine  in  the  hopping  season  accompanied  by  the 
smaller  members  of  the  family.  At  the  "  crib "  into 
which  the  hops  are  picked,  many  bushels  proved  their 
industry,  and  there  were  no  leaves  or  rubbish  to  call  for 
rebuke  at  the  midday  and  evening  measurings. 

I  selected  Jarge  for  foreman  of  the  hop-picking  as  a  most 
responsible  and  trustworthy  man;  it  was  then  that  his 
sense  of  humour  was  most  conspicuous,  a  very  important 
and  valuable  trait  when  300  women  and  children,  and  the 
men  who  supplied  them  with  hops  on  the  poles,  have  to 
be  kept  cheerful  and  good-tempered  every  day  and  all  day 
for  three  weeks  or  a  month,  sometimes  under  trying  con- 
ditions. For  though  hop-picking  is  a  fascinating  occupa- 
tion when  the  sun  shines  and  the  sky  is  blue,  it  is  otherwise 
when  the  mornings  are  damp  or  the  hops  dripping  with 
dew,  and  when  heavy  thunder-rains  have  left  the  ground 
wet  and  cold. 

He  had  a  cheery  word  for  all  who  were  working  steadily, 
and  a  semi-sarcastic  remark  for  the  careless  and  immethodi- 
cal;  a  keen  eye  for  hops  wasted  and  trodden  into  the 
ground,  or  for  poles  of  undersized  hops,  unwelcome  to  the 
pickers  and  hidden  beneath  those  from  which  the  hops 
had  been  picked.  He  acted  as  buffer  between  capital  and 
labour,  smoothing  troubles  over,  telling  me  of  the  pickers' 
difficulties,  and  explaining  my  side  to  the  pickers  when  the 
quality  was  poor  and  prices  discouraging,  so  that  the  work 
went  with  a  swing  and  with  happy  faces  and  good-humoured 
chaff. 

I  was  always  pleased  to  hear  the  pickers  singing,  for  I 
knew  then  that  all  was  well.  Sometimes,  after  a  trying 
day,  when  Jarge  had  been  called  upon  to  expostulate,  or 
"to  talk  "  more  than  usual,  the  corners  of  his  mouth  would 
take  a  downward  turn,  and  he  complained,  perhaps,  of 
gipsies  or  tramps  whom  I  was  obliged  to  employ  when  the 
crop  was  heavy,  though  they  were  kept  in  a  gang  apart  from 
the  villagers;  but  he  always  came  up  happy  again  next 
morning,  the  mouth  corners  tending  upwards,  and  his  broad 


26  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


and  beaming  smile  with  a  radiance  like  the  rising  sun  on  a 
midsummer  morning. 

Jarge  was  a  man  of  discrimination.  When  we  were  forced 
to  inaugurate  a  School  Board  on  account  of  the  growing 
difficulty,  owing  to  the  bad  times,  of  collecting  voluntary 
subscriptions,  all  the  old  school  managers,  including  my 
second  Vicar — I  served  under  three  Vicars  as  church- 
warden— refused  to  join  the  Board.  Jarge,  who  was  much 
exercised  in  his  mind  as  to  the  possibility  of  future  bad 
management,  came  to  me,  and  referring  to  a  proposal  to 
place  working-men  on  the  Board,  said:  "We  wants  men 
like  you,  sir,  for  members;  what's  the  good  of  sending  we 
dunderyeads  there  ?" 

Going  round  the  farm  on  his  daughter's  wedding-day, 
I  was  surprised  to  find  him  at  work;  and  when  I  asked  him 
why  he  was  not  at  the  ceremony,  "  Well,"  he  replied,  "  I 
don't  think  much  of  weddings — the  fittel  (victuals)  ain't 
good  enough;  give  me  a  jolly  good  fu-ner-ral  !" 

Jarge  wore  a  brown  velveteen  coat  on  high-days  and 
holidays  by  virtue  of  his  sporting  reputation,  and  looked 
exceedingly  smart  with  special  corduroy  breeches  and 
gaiters  and  a  wide-awake  felt  hat.  He  was  much  annoyed 
in  Birmingham,  whither  I  had  sent  all  the  men  to  an 
agricultural  show,  at  hearing  a  man  say  to  a  companion, 
"  There's  another  of  them  Country  Johnnies."  When 
I  told  him  what  a  swell  he  looked,  he  replied  some- 
what ruefully,  "  No  !  that's  what  I  never  could  be,"  as 
though  he  felt  that  his  appearance  was  disappointingly 
rustic. 

Though  a  most  industrious  man,  he  had  dreams  of  the 
enjoyment  of  complete  leisure;  he  told  me  that  if  ever 
he  possessed  as  much  as  fifty  pounds  he  would  never  do 
another  day's  work  as  long  as  he  lived.  I  answered  that 
when  that  ideal  was  reached  he  would  postpone  his  pro- 
jected ease  until  he  had  made  it  a  hundred,  and  so  on 
ad  infinitum ;  and  this  proved  a  correct  forecast,  for  in 
time,  by  the  aid  of  a  well-managed  allotment  and  regular 
wages,  he  saved  a  good  bit  of  money.     When  I  sold  my 


THE  HOP  FOREMAN  AND  THE  HOP  DRIER    27 

fruit  crops  by  auction,  on  the  trees,  for  the  buyers  to  pick, 
just  before  I  gave  up  my  land,  as  I  should  not  be  present 
to  harvest  the  late  apples  and  cider  fruit  after  Michaelmas, 
he  came  forward  with  a  bid  of  one  hundred  pounds  for  one 
of  the  orchards,  though  it  was  sold  eventually  for  a  higher 
price. 

He  was  not  well  versed  in  finance,  however,  for  when  the 
owner  of  his  cottage  offered,  at  his  request,  to  build  a  new 
pigsty  if  he  would  pay  a  rent  of  5  per  cent,  annually 
on  the  cost — a  very  fair  proposal — Jarge  declined  with 
scorn,  being,  I  think,  under  the  impression  that  the  owner 
was  demanding  the  complete  sum  of  five  pounds  annually, 
and  I  found  it  impossible  to  disabuse  his  mind  of  the  idea. 
He  felt  aggrieved  also  by  the  fact  that,  having  paid  rent 
for  twenty-five  or  thirty  years,  he  was  no  nearer  ownership 
of  his  cottage  than  when  he  began.  His  argument  was 
that,  as  he  had  paid  more  than  the  value  of  the  cottage,  it 
should  be  his  property;  the  details  of  interest  on  capital 
and  all  rates  and  repairs  paid  by  the  owner  did  not  appeal 
to  him. 

On  the  occasion  of  a  concert  at  Malvern,  which  my  wife 
and  her  sister  organized  for  the  benefit  of  our  church 
restoration  fund,  I  gave  all  my  men  a  holiday,  and  sent 
them  off  by  train  at  an  early  hour ;  they  were  to  climb  the 
Worcestershire  Beacon — the  highest  point  of  the  Malvern 
range — in  the  morning,  and  attend  the  concert  in  the  after- 
noon. It  was  a  lovely  day,  and  the  programme  was  duly 
carried  out.  Next  morning  I  found  Jarge  and  another  man, 
who  had  been  detailed  for  the  day's  work  to  sow  nitrate  of 
soda  on  a  distant  wheat-field,  sitting  peacefully  under  the 
hedge;  they  told  me  that  the  excitement  and  the  climb 
had  completely  tired  them  out,  but  that  they  would  stop 
and  complete  the  job,  no  matter  how  late  at  night  that 
might  be.  It  was  the  hill-climbing,  I  think,  that  had 
brought  into  play  muscles  not  generally  used  in  our  flat 
country.  I  sympathized,  and  left  them  resting,  but  the 
work  was  honourably  concluded  before  they  left  the 
field. 


28  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

When  there  was  illness  in  Jarge's  house  and  somebody 
told  him  that  the  doctor  had  been  seen  leaving,  he 
answered  that  he  "  Would  sooner  see  the  butcher  there 
any  day  " — not,  perhaps,  a  very  happy  expression  in  the 
circumstances,  but  intended  to  convey  that  a  butcher's 
bill,  for  good  meat  supplied,  was  more  satisfactory  than  a 
doctor's  account,  which  represented  nothing  in  the  way 
of  commissariat. 

Among  the  annual  trips  to  which  I  treated  my  men, 
I  sent  them  for  a  long  summer  day  to  London,  and  one  of 
my  pupils  kindly  volunteered  to  act  as  conductor  to  the 
sights.  They  had  a  very  successful  day,  and  the  principal 
streets  and  shows  were  visited;  among  the  latter  the  Great 
Wheel,  then  very  popular,  was  the  one  that  seemed  to 
interest  them  most. 

Next  morning  some  of  the  travellers  were  hoeing  beans 
in  one  of  my  fields;  I  interviewed  them  on  my  round,  and 
inquired  what  they  thought  of  London.  They  had  much 
enjoyed  the  day,  and  were  greatly  struck  by  the  fact  that 
the  barmaid,  at  the  place  where  they  had  eaten  the  lunch 
they  took  with  them,  had  recognized  them  as  "  Ooster- 
shire  men  " ;  they  had  demanded  their  beer  in  three  or  four 
quart  jugs,  which  could  be  handed  round  so  that  each  man 
could  take  a  pull  in  turn,  instead  of  the  usual  fashion  of 
separate  glasses,  and  it  appeared  that  this  indicated  the 
locality  from  whence  they  came.  Probably  she  had  noticed 
their  accent,  and,  being  a  native  of  Worcestershire,  remem- 
bered their  intimate  drinking  custom  as  a  county  pecu- 
liarity. The  men  proceeded  to  describe  the  sights  of 
London,  and  one  of  them  added  that  there  was  one  thing 
they  could  not  find  there,  stopping  suddenly  in  some 
confusion.  I  pressed  him  to  explain.  He  still  hesitated, 
and,  turnmg  to  the  others,  said:  "  You  tell  the  master, 
Bill."  Bill  was  not  so  diffident.  "  Well,"  he  said,  "  we 
couldn't  see  a  good-looking  'ooman  in  Lunnon;  for  Jarge 
here,  'e  was  judge  over  'em  for  a  bit,  and  then  Tom  'e  took 
it,  nor  'e  couldn't  see  one  neither  !" 

Jarge  was  somewhat  of  a  bon  vivant,  and  much  appre- 


THE  HOP  FOREMAN  AND  THE  HOP  DRIER    29 


ciated  my  annual  present  of  a  piece  of  Christmas  beef. 
When  thanking  me  and  descanting  upon  its  tenderness 
and  acceptability,  on  one  occasion,  he  continued,  "  It  ain't 
like  the  sort  of  biff  we  folks  has  to  put  up  with,  that  tough 
you  has  to  set  in  the  middle  of  the  room  at  dinner,  for  fear 
you  might  daish  your  brains  out  agen  the  wall  a-tuggin' 
at  it  with  your  teeth  !" 

Jarge  had  one  song  and  only  one  that  I  ever  heard,  and 
he  was  always  called  upon  for  it  at  harvest  suppers  and 
other  jollifications;  it  was  not  a  classic,  but  he  rendered  it 
with  characteristic  drollery,  and  always  brought  down  the 
house.  I  conclude  my  sketch  of  him  by  mentioning  it 
because  it  is  almost  my  last  impression  of  his  vivid  per- 
sonality, trotted  out  with  great  energy  at  my  farewell 
supper,  a  day  or  two  before  I  left  Aldington. 

Among  the  men  who  were  bequeathed  to  me,  so  to  speak, 
by  my  predecessor,  Tom  was  one  of  whom  I  always  had  a 
high  opinion.  Tall,  vigorous,  and  well  made,  one  recog- 
nized at  once  his  possibilities  as  a  valuable  man.  He  was 
somewhat  cautious,  taciturn,  very  sensitive  and  reserved, 
but  would  open  out  in  conversation  when  alone  with  me. 
As  quite  a  young  man  he  had  worked  at  the  building  of  the 
branch  line  from  Oxford  to  Wolverhampton,  via  Worces- 
ter, the  "  O.  W.  and  W.,"  or  "  Old  Wusser  and  Wusser,"  as 
it  was  called,  until  taken  over  by  the  Great  Western  Rail- 
way. The  latter,  extending  from  London  to  Oxford,  was, 
I  believe,  one  of  Brunell's  masterly  conceptions,  being 
without  a  tunnel  the  whole  way.  But  the  new  line  had 
to  pierce  the  Cotswolds  before  reaching  the  Vale  of 
Evesham,  and  Tom  had  many  yarns  about  the  construction 
of  the  long  Mickleton  tunnel.  Among  them  was  a  tradition 
of  the  cost,  so  great  that  guineas  laid  edgeways  throughout 
its  length  would  not  pay  for  it. 

In  my  time  there  was  a  splendid  service  of  express  trains 
running  from  London  to  Worcester  without  a  stop,  and 
coming  downhill  into  the  Vale,  through  the  tunnel  and 
towards  Evesham,  the  speed  approximated  to  a  mile  a 
minute.     I   was   talking  to  one  of  my   men,   a   hedger, 


30  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


working  near  the  line  which  bounded  a  portion  of  my  land, 
when  one  of  the  express  trains  came  dashing  along  and 
passed  us  with  a  roar  in  a  few  seconds.  "  My  word," 
said  he,  "  I  reckon  that's  a  co-rider."  I  was  puzzled,  but 
presently  it  came  to  me  that  he  meant  "corridor";  he 
had  probably  seen  the  word  in  the  local  paper  without 
having  heard  it  pronounced. 

It  was  a  treat  to  watch  Tom's  magnificent  physique 
when  felling  a  big  tree,  stripped  to  his  shirt,  with  sleeves 
rolled  up,  and  his  gleaming  axe  slowly  raised  and  poised  for 
a  second  above  him  before  it  fell  with  the  gathered  impetus 
of  its  OAvn  weight  and  his  powerful  stress.  Biting  time 
after  time  into  the  exact  place  aimed  at,  and  at  the  most 
effective  angle  possible,  the  clean  chips  would  fly  in  all 
directions  until  the  necessary  notch  was  cut  and  the  basal 
outgrowths,  close  to  the  ground  around  the  sturdy  column, 
were  reduced,  so  that  the  cross-cut  saw  could  complete 
its  downfall  with  a  mighty  crash.  There  is  always  some- 
thing sad  about  the  felling  of  an  ancient  tree;  one  feels 
it  is  a  venerable  creature  that  has  passed  long  years  of 
unchallenged  dominion  on  the  spot  occupied,  and  one 
can  scarcely  avoid  an  idea  of  its  intelligence  and  its  silent 
record  of  passing  generations,  who  have  welcomed  its  shade 
at  blazing  summer  noontides,  or  crept  close  to  its  warm 
touch  for  shelter  from  the  winter's  chilling  blast  and  the 
hissing  hail. 

Tom  was  always  the  leader  of  my  team  of  mowers  when 
the  grass  was  cut,  for,  with  the  large  staff  I  employed  on 
purpose  for  the  all-important  hop-gardens,  I  never  wanted, 
till  towards  the  end  of  my  time,  to  make  use  of  a  machine. 
The  steady  swing  of  his  scythe,  with  scarcely  an  apparent 
effort,  the  swish,  as  the  swathe  fell  beneath  its  keen  edge, 
and  the  final  lift  of  the  severed  grasses  at  the  end  of  the 
stroke,  all  in  regular  rhythmic  action,  were  very  fascinating 
to  watch.  At  intervals  came  a  halt  for  "  whetting  "  the 
blade,  and  the  musical  sound  of  rubber  (sharpening  stone) 
against  steel,  equally  adroitly  accomplished,  proved  the 
artist  at  his  work,  with  a  delicacy  of  touch  which,  perhaps 


THE  HOP  FOREMAN  AND  THE  HOP  DRIER    31 

in  different  circumstances,  might  have  produced  the 
thrills  with  which  Pachmami's  velvet  caress  or  Paderew- 
ski's  refined  expression  enchant  a  vast  and  rapturous 
audience. 

As  a  land-drainer,  too,  I  loved  to  watch  him  standing  in 
the  slippery  trench,  with  not  an  inch  more  soil  moved 
than  was  necessary,  lifting  out  the  decreasing  "  draws," 
and  leaving  a  bottom  nicely  rounded  exactly  to  fit  the 
pipes,  and  finally  the  methodical  adjustment  of  each  pipe, 
with  the  concluding  tap  to  bring  it  close  to  the  last  one 
laid.  Draining  is  an  art  which  taxes  the  ability  of  the 
best  of  men,  for  it  must  be  remembered  that,  like  the  links 
of  a  chain,  its  efficiency  is  no  greater  than  that  of  its 
weakest  part. 

When  I  had  to  arrange  for  the  harvesting  of  my  first 
hop  crop,  it  was  necessary  to  find  a  man  who  could  be 
entrusted  with  the  critical  work  of  drying  the  hops,  and 
Tom  was  the  man  I  chose.  I  had  my  kiln  ready,  constructed 
in  an  old  malthouse,  on  the  latest  principles,  and  in  time 
for  the  first  crop.  The  kiln  consisted  of  a  space  about 
20  feet  square,  walled  off  at  one  end  of  the  old  building, 
but  with  entrances  on  the  gi'ound  and  first  floors.  Be- 
neath, in  the  lower  compartment,  was  the  fireplace,  a  yard 
square,  and  16  feet  above  was  the  floor  on  which  the  hops 
were  dried.  Anthracite  coal  was  used  for  fuel,  the  fire 
being  maintamed  day  and  night  throughout  the  picking — 
the  morning's  picking  drying  between  1  p.m.  and  12  mid- 
night, and  the  afternoon's  picking  between  1  a.m.  and  12 
o'clock  noon.  Tom  was  therefore  on  duty  for  the  whole 
twenty-four  hours,  with  what  snatches  of  sleep  he 
could  catch  in  the  initial  stage  of  each  drying  and  at  odd 
moments. 

The  process  requires  great  skill  and  attention;  at  first  he 
and  I,  with  what  little  knowledge  I  had,  puzzled  it  out 
together,  he  having  had  no  previous  experience,  and  night 
after  night  I  sat  up  with  him  till  the  load  came  off  the  kiln 
at  midnight.  A  slight  excess  of  heat,  or  an  irregular 
application  of  it,  will  spoil  the  hops,  the  principle  being  to 


32  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

raise  the  temperature,  very  giadually  at  first,  to  30  or  40 
degrees  higher  at  the  finish.  Hops  should  be  blown  dry 
by  a  blast  of  hot  air,  not  baked  by  heat  alone.  The  drier, 
of  course,  has  to  keep  a  watehful  eye  on  the  thermometer 
on  the  upper  floor  among  the  hops — Tom  always  called  it 
the  "  theometer  " — regulating  his  fire  accordingly  and  the 
admission  of  cold  air  through  adjustable  ventilators  on 
the  outside  walls.  This  regulation  varies  according  to  the 
weather,  the  moisture  of  the  air,  and  the  condition  of  the 
hops,  and  calls  for  critical  judgment  and  accuracy.  Often, 
tired  out  with  the  previous  ordinary  day's  work,  we  had 
much  ado  to  keep  awake  at  night,  and  it  was  fatal  to  arrange 
a  too  comfortable  position  with  the  warmth  of  the  glowing 
fire  and  the  soporific  scent  of  the  hops.  Then  Tom  would 
announce  that  it  was  "  time  to  get  them  little  props  out," 
which,  in  imagination,  were  to  support  our  wearied  eye- 
lids. 

"When  we  decided  that  the  hops  were  ready  to  be  cooled 
down,  to  prevent  breaking  when  being  taken  off  the 
drying  floor,  all  doors,  windows,  and  ventilators  were 
thrown  open  and  the  fire  banked  up,  and,  while  they  were 
cooling,  he  went  to  neighbouring  cottages  to  rouse  the  men 
who  came  nightly  to  unload  and  reload  the  kiln,  and  then 
I  could  retire  to  bed. 

Tom  was  devoted  to  duty,  and  was  so  successful  as  a 
hop-drier  that  he  soon  became  capable  of  managing  two 
more  kilns  in  the  same  building,  which  I  enlarged  as  I 
gradually  increased  my  acreage.  In  a  good  season  he 
would  often  have  £100  worth  of  hops  through  his  hands 
in  the  twenty-four  hours,  sometimes  more.  He  was  the 
only  man  I  ever  employed  at  this  particular  work,  and 
throughout  those  years  he  turned  out  hops  to  the  value  of 
nearly  £30,000  without  a  single  mishap  or  spoiled  kiln- 
load — a  better  proof  of  his  devotion  to  duty  than  anything 
else  I  could  say. 

He  was  a  very  picturesque  figure  when,  "  croTsned  with 
the  sickle  and  the  wheaten  sheaf.  Autumn  comes  jovial  on," 
and  he  was  cutting  wheat,  his  head  covered  with  a  coloured 


THE  HOP  FOREMAN  AND  THE  HOP  DRIER    83 


handkerchief,  knotted  at  the  corners,  to  protect  the  back 
of  his  neck  from  the  sun,  which  must  have  been  much  cooler 
than  the  felt  hat — a  kind  of  "  billycock  "  with  a  flat  top — 
which  he  habitually  wore.  I  have  noticed  that  the 
labourer's  style  of  hat  is  a  matter  of  great  conservatism, 
probably  due  to  the  fancy  that  he  would  "  look  odd  "  in 
any  other,  and  would  be  liable  to  chaff  from  his  fellow- 
workers. 

Tom  had  a  tremendous  reach,  and  got  through  a  big 
day's  work  in  the  harvest-field,  but  nearly  always  knocked 
himself  up  after  two  or  three  days  in  the  broiling  sun, 
developing  what  he  called,  "  Tantiddy's  fire  "  in  one  fore- 
arm; this  is  the  local  equivalent  of  St.  Anthony's  fire,  an 
ailment  termed  professionally  erysipelas,  but  I  have  never 
heard  how  it  is  connected  with  the  saint. 

Harvesters  often  work  in  pairs,  and  they  are  then 
"  butties  "  (partners),  but  not  infrequently  a  harvester 
will  be  accompanied  by  his  wife  or  daughter  to  tie  up  the 
sheaves;  and  their  active  figures  among  the  golden  corn, 
backed  by  a  horizon  of  blue  sky,  make  a  charming  picture. 
The  mind  goes  back  to  the  old  Scripture  references  to  the 
time  of  harvest,  and  the  idea  impresses  itself  that  one  is 
looking  at  almost  exactly  the  same  scene  as  it  appeared  to 
the  old  writers,  and  which  they  described  in  all  the  dignity 
of  their  stately  language. 

Tom  was  not  much  given  to  the  epigrammatic  expres- 
sion of  his  thoughts,  like  some  of  the  other  men,  but  he  had 
a  vein  of  humour.  A  relative  of  his  used  to  come  over  from 
Evesham  to  sing  in  our  church  choir,  and  I  remember  a 
special  occasion  when  the  choir  was  somewhat  piano  until 
this  singer's  part  came  in;  he  had  a  strong  and  not  very 
melodious  voice,  and  the  effort  and  the  effect  alike 
were  startling.  Tom  was  in  church  at  the  time,  and 
had  evidently  been  watching  expectantly  for  the 
fortissimo  chmax;  he  told  me  afterwards  that  "  when 
S.  opened  his  mouth  I  knew  it  was  sure  to  come." 
It  did  ! 

I  have  mentioned  Tom's  cautiousness;  he  had  a  way  of 

3 


34  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


assenting  to  a  statement  without  committing  himself  to 
definite  agreement.  I  once  asked  him  who  the  leaders  had 
been  in  a  disorderly  incident,  being  aware  that  he  knew; 
I  suggested  the  names,  but  the  nearest  approach  to  assent 
which  I  could  extract  was,  "  If  you  spakes  again  you'll 
be  \vrong." 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  HEAD  CARTER— THE  CARPENTER 

"  There's  a  right  way  and  a  wrong  way  to  do  everything,  and  folks 
most  in  general  chooses  the  wrong  un." — Tom  G. 

Jim  was  my  first  head  carter,  and  he  dearly  loved  a  horse. 
He  had,  as  the  saying  is,  forgotten  more  about  horses  than 
most  men  ever  knew,  and  what  he  didn't  know  wasn't 
worth  knowing. 

He  was  a  cheery  man,  and  when  I  went  to  Aldington 
was  about  to  be  married.  Not  being  much  of  a  "  scholard," 
his  first  request  was  that  I  would  write  out  his  name  and 
that  of  his  intended,  for  the  publication  of  the  banns. 
A  group  of  men  was  standing  round  at  the  time,  and  I 
asked  him  how  his  somewhat  unusual  name  was  spelt. 
Seeing  that  he  was  puzzled,  I  hazarded  a  guess  myself, 
repeating  the  six  letters  in  order  slowly.  He  was  greatly 
surprised  and  pleased  to  recognize  that  my  attempt  was 
correct,  and,  turning  to  the  bystanders,  remarked  with  the 
utmost  sincerity,  "  There  ain't  many  as  could  have  done 
that,  mind  you  !"  I  felt  that  my  reputation  for  scholar- 
ship was  established. 

Jim  was  a  fisherman,  and  was  no  representative  of  "  a 
worm  at  one  end  and  a  fool  at  the  other."  I  gave  him 
leave  to  fish  in  my  brooks;  he  was  wily,  patient,  and  suc- 
cessful, and  one  day  brought  me  a  nice  salmon-trout,  by 
no  means  common  in  these  streams.  In  thanking  him, 
I  made  him  a  standing  offer  of  a  shilling  a  pound  for  any 
more  he  could  catch,  but  he  never  got  another.  Writing 
of  fishing,  I  cannot  forbear  quoting  Thomson's  lines  on  the 
subject,  under  "  Spring,"  the  most  vivid  description_^of  the 
sport  I  have  ever  read : 

35 


36  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


"  When  with  his  lively  ray  the  potent  sun 

Has  pierced  the  streams,  and  roused  the  finny  race, 
Then,  issuing  cheerful,  to  thy  sport  repair; 
Chief  should  the  western  breezes  curlinp  play, 
And  light  o'er  ether  bear  the  shadowy  clouds. 
High  to  their  fount,  this  day,  amid  the  hills, 
And  woodlands  warbling  round,  trace  up  the  brooks; 
The  next,  pursue  their  rocky-channel'd  maze, 
Down  to  the  river,  in  whose  ample  wave 
Their  little  naiads  love  to  sport  at  large. 
Just  in  the  dubious  point,  where  with  the  pool 
Is  mix'd  the  trem.bling  stream,  or  where  it  boils 
Around  the  stone,  or  from  the  hollow'd  bank 
Reverted  plays  in  undulating  flow. 
There  throw,  nice-judging,  the  delusive  fly; 
And  as  you  lead  it  round  in  artful  curve. 
With  eye  attentive  mark  the  springing  gamev 
Straight  as  above  the  surface  of  the  flood 
They  wanton  rise,  or  urged  by  hunger  leap, 
'  Then  fix,  with  gentle  twitch,  the  barbed  hook: 
Some  lightly  tossing  to  the  grassy  bank, 
And  to  the  shelving  shore  slow-dragging  some, 
With  various  hand  proportion'd  to  their  force. 
If  yet  too  young,  and  easily  deceived, 
A  worthless  prey  scarce  bends  your  pliant  rod. 
Him,  piteous  of  his  youth  and  the  short  space 
He  has  enjoy'd  the  vital  light  of  heaven. 
Soft  disengage,  and  back  into  the  stream 
The  speckled  captive  throw.     But  should  you  lure 
From  his  dark  haunt,  beneath  the  tangled  roots 
Of  pendant  trees,  the  monarch  of  the  brook, 
Behoves  you  then  to  ph'  your  finest  art. 
Long  time  he  following  cautious,  scans  the  fly: 
And  oft  attempts  to  seize  it,  but  as  oft 
The  dimpled  water  speaks  his  jealous  fear. 
At  last,  while  haply  yet  the  shaded  sun 
Passes  a  cloud,  he  desperate  takes  the  death. 
With  sullen  plunge.     At  once  he  darts  along. 
Deep-struck,  and  runs  out  all  the  lengthen'd  line; 
Then  seeks  the  furthest  ooze,  the  sheltering  weed, 
The  cavern'd  bank,  his  old  secure  abode ; 
And  flies  aloft,  and  flounces  round  the  pool. 
Indignant  of  the  guile.     With  yielding  hand, 
That  feels  him  still,  yet  to  his  furious  course 
Gives  way,  you,  now  retiring,  following  now 
Across  the  stream,  exhaust  his  idle  rage: 
Till  floating  broad  upon  his  breathless  side, 
And  to  his  fate  abandon'd,  to  the  shore 
You  gaily  drag  your  unresisting  prize." 

Horses  were  scarce  and  dear  when  I  went  to  Aldington, 
and  many  French  animals  were  being  imported.  I  got  an 
old  acquaintance  in  the  South  of  England  to  send  me  four 


THE  HEAD  CARTER  87 


or  five;  they  were  all  greys,  useful  workers,  but  wanting 
the  spirit  and  stamina  of  the  English  horse;  and  they 
would  always  wait  for  the  Englishman  to  start  a  heavy 
standing  load  before  throwing  their  weight  into  the  collar. 
Jim  told  me  that  they  were  "  desperate  ongain  "  (very 
awkward),  and,  as  foreigners,  well  they  might  be,  for  I 
myself  had  some  difficulty  in  understanding  the  local  words 
of  command,  more  especially  in  ploughing,  when,  with 
a  team  of  four,  he  shouted  his  orders,  addressing  the  new 
horses  by  names  with  which  they  were  quite  unfamiliar. 

I  admired  Jim's  loyalty  to  his  late  master,  if  not  his 
veracity,  at  the  valuation  of  the  stock,  which  I  took  over 
as  it  stood.  Being  aware  that  there  was  a  lame  one  or 
two  among  the  horses,  I  warned  my  valuer  beforehand. 
We  entered  the  stable,  and  my  valuer,  thinking  to  catch 
Jim  off  his  guard,  asked  casually  which  they  were.  Jim 
was  quite  ready  for  him,  and  answered  without  a  moment's 
hesitation,  "  Nerrun,  sir "  (never  a  one).  They  were, 
however,  easily  detected  when  trotted  out  on  the  road. 

Jim  was  a  capital  hand  at  "  getting  up  "  a  horse  for  sale; 
an  extra  sack  or  two  of  corn,  constant  grooming,  and  rest 
in  the  stable,  with  the  aid  of  some  mysterious  powders, 
which,  I  think,  contained  arsenic,  soon  brought  out  the 
"  dapples,"  which  he  called  "  crown-pieces,"  on  their 
coats,  and  in  a  couple  of  months'  time  one  scarcely  recog- 
nized the  somewhat  angular  beast  upon  v/hich  his  labours 
had  wrought  a  miracle,  and  put  a  ten-pound  note  at  least 
on  the  value.  We  had  an  ancient  and  otherwise  doubtful 
mare,  "  Bonny,"  ready  for  Pershore  Fair,  and  the  previous 
day  Jim  wanted  to  know  if  I  intended  to  be  present.  I 
told  him,  "  No  !  I  should  have  to  tell  too  many  lies." 
"  Oh  !"  said  he,  "  I'll  do  all  that,  sir  !"  He  sold  the  mare 
to  a  big  dealer  for  all  she  was  worth,  I  think,  though  not  a 
large  figure.  Soon  afterwards  I  had  to  expostulate  with 
him  about  some  fault.  He  explained  the  circumstances 
from  his  point  of  view,  adding,  "  And  that's  the  truth,  sir, 
and  the  truth  is  the  truth,  and  " — triumphantly — "  that's 
what'll  carry  a  man  through  the  world  !"     I  could  say  no 


38  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


more,  but  could  not  help  remembering  his  willingness  to 
testify  to  Bonny's  doubtful  merits  at  Pershore  Fair. 

Jim  became  a  widower,  but  eventually  married  again; 
a  good  woman,  who  made  a  capital  wife.  Shortly  before 
the  wedding,  when  he  came  to  see  me  on  some  business, 
my  wife  happened  to  be  present;  she  was  very  anxious 
to  find  out  the  date  in  order  that  we  might  attend.  Jim 
was  shy,  not  wishing  it  to  be  generally  known,  and  nothing 
could  be  got  out  of  him.  On  leaving,  however,  he  repented 
and,  looking  back  over  his  shoulder,  made  the  announce- 
ment, "  Our  job  comes  off  next  Thursday,"  then  closing 
the  door  quickly,  he  was  gone. 

He  got  my  permission  to  visit  his  mother  and  son,  both 
ailing  in  Birmingham,  and  on  his  return  I  made  inquiries. 
Tlie  boy  was  better,  but  about  his  mother  he  said,  "  I  don't 
take  so  much  notice  of  she,  for  her  be  regular  weared  out  " 
— not  unkindly  or  undutifully  intended,  but  just  a  plain 
statement  of  fact,  simply  put ;  for  she  was  a  very  old  woman, 
and  could  not  in  the  course  of  nature  be  expected  to  live 
much  longer. 

That  Jim  had  a  tender  heart  I  know,  for  when  we  lost 
a  very  favourite  horse,  one  which  "  you  could  not  put  at  the 
wrong  job,"  I  found  him  weeping  and  much  distressed. 
Later  he  said,  "  When  you  lose  a  horse  I  reckon  it's  a 
double  loss,  for  you  haven't  got  the  horse  or  the  money." 
My  mind  being  dominated  by  the  unanswerable  accuracy 
of  the  latter  part  of  the  statement,  I  did  not,  for  a  moment, 
see  that  the  first  part  was  fallacious,  because,  of  course,  one 
could  not  have  both  at  one  and  the  same  time. 

He  Avas  an  excellent  ploughman,  and  considerable  skill 
is  demanded  to  manage  the  long  wood  plough,  locally  made, 
and  still  the  best  implement  of  the  sort  on  the  adhesive 
land  of  the  Vale  of  Evesham.  It  has  no  wheels,  like  the 
ordinary  iron  plough  has,  to  regulate  the  depth  and  width 
of  the  furrow-slice,  because  in  wet  weather,  if  tried  on  this 
almost  stoneless  land,  the  wheels  become  so  clogged  with 
mud  and  refuse,  such  as  stubble  from  the  previous  crop, 
that    they  will  not    revolve,  sliding    helplessly  involved 


THE  HEAD  CARTER  3D 

along  the  ground.  Even  the  mould-board  is  wood, 
generally  pear-tree,  to  which  the  mud  does  not  adhere,  as 
happens  with  iron.  As  an  old  neighbour  explained  to  me, 
"  You  can  cut  the  newest  bread  with  a  wooden  knife, 
whereas  the  doughy  crumb  of  the  bread  would  stick  to  a 
steel  one."  Pear-tree  wood  is  used  because  it  wears 
*'  slick  "  (smooth),  and  does  not  splinter  like  wood  which 
is  longer  in  the  grain. 

With  these  long  wood  ploughs  the  ploughman  himself 
regulates  the  depth  and  width  of  the  furrow-slice — i.e.,  each 
strip  that  is  severed  and  turned  over — by  holding  the 
handles  firmly  in  the  correct  position  as  the  plough  travels 
along,  for  it  cannot  be  left  for  a  moment  to  its  own  inclina- 
tion. This  entails  strict  attention  and  much  muscular 
effort,  and,  of  course,  the  latter  comes  into  play  also  in 
turning  at  each  end  of  the  field.  The  result  is  very  effec- 
tive; the  flat  mould-board  offers  the  least  possible  resist- 
ance to  the  inversion  of  the  soil,  whereas  the  iron  plough, 
with  a  curling  mould-board,  presses  the  crest  of  the  furrow- 
slice  into  regularity  of  form,  and  gives  a  more  finished 
appearance  at  the  expense  of  much  extra  friction  and 
labour  for  the  horses. 

A  carter-boy  accompanies  each  team,  as  driver,  to  keep 
the  horses  up  to  their  work  and  turn  them  at  the  ends.  A 
farmer  I  knew  in  Hampshire  would  not,  if  possible,  employ 
a  boy  imless  he  could  whistle — of  course  the  ability  and 
degree  of  excellence  is  a  guide  to  character,  and  indicates 
to  some  extent  a  harmonious  disposition;  he  always  said, 
"  Now  whistle,"  when  engaging  a  new  boy. 

There  are  few  more  pleasant  agricultural  operations  to 
watch  and  to  follow  than  a  lusty  team,  a  skilful  plough- 
man, and  a  whistling  boy  at  work,  on  a  glowing  autumn 
day,  when  the  stubble  is  covered  with  gossamers  gleaming 
with  iridescent  colours  in  the  sunshine.  The  upturned 
earth  is  fragrant,  the  fresh  soil  looks  rich  and  full  of  promise, 
there  is  the  feeling  that  old  mistakes  and  disappoint- 
ments are  being  buried  out  of  sight,  and  the  hope  and 
anticipation  of  the  future. 


40  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

On  a  Lincolnshire  farm  where  I  was  a  pupil,  an  incident 
occurred  illustrating  the  anxiety  of  a  carter  for  the  wel- 
fare of  his  horses,  in  combination  with  no  small  cunning. 
The  owner,  in  the  stable  one  Sunday  morning,  noticed  an 
open  Bible  in  the  manger;  having  doubts  as  to  the  relia- 
bility of  the  carter,  he  regarded  the  Bible,  so  prominently 
displayed,  with  some  suspicion.  Looking  carefully  all 
round  he  could  see  nothing  to  find  fault  with,  until  he 
glanced  upward  at  the  floor  over  the  manger,  where  he 
discovered  a  protruding  cork.  He  remembered  that  a 
heap  of  oats  was  stored  in  the  loft,  from  which  the  bailiff 
gave  out  the  rations  for  their  teams  to  each  man  weekly. 
Getting  the  key  of  the  loft,  he  found  that  the  cork  was  nicely 
adjusted  to  a  hole  beneath  the  oats,  so  that  the  carter  in 
question  could  exceed  the  recognized  ration  whenever 
inclined.  The  fault  was,  of  course,  more  one  of  disobedi- 
ence than  of  robbery,  as  the  corn  was  consumed  by  his 
master's  horses,  and  the  prominence  of  the  Bible  was 
perhaps  the  worst  feature,  evidently  a  deceptive  device  to 
arrest  suspicion,  though  it  proved  to  have  exactly  the 
opposite  effect. 

Very  few  of  my  men  suffered  from  rheumatism,  but  Jim 
was  an  exception.  I  think  he  applied  horse  embrocation 
to  himself;  he  would  extol  its  efficacy,  and  would  tell  how, 
when  the  pain  attacked  his  shoulder,  the  remedy  "  druv 
it  "  to  his  back;  applied  to  the  latter,  "  it  druv  it  "  to  his 
legs;  and  so  on  indefinitely. 

I  kept  about  a  dozen  working  horses  besides  colts; 
the  latter  are  broken  at  two  years  old,  but  only  very  lightly 
worked,  and,  when  quiet  and  handy,  they  are  turned  out 
again  till  a  year  older.  Our  method  of  maintaining  the  full 
capacity  of  horse-power  on  the  farm  was  to  breed,  or  buy  at 
six  months  old,  two  colts,  and  sell  off  two  of  the  oldest 
horses  every  year.  As  two  colts  could  be  bought  for  forty 
or  fifty  pounds  at  that  age,  and  the  two  old  horses  sold 
for  a  hundred  and  twenty  pounds  or  thereabouts,  a  good 
balance  was  left  on  the  transaction,  while  the  full  strength 
of  the  teams  was  maintained. 


THE  CARPENTER  41 


Jim  had  sufficient  foresight  to  view  with  alarm  the 
gradual  dispersion  of  most  of  the  oldest  and  best  farmers 
in  the  neighbourhood,  and  the  conversion  to  grass  of  the 
arable  land,  owing  to  the  unfair  and  dangerous  competition 
of  American  wheat.  When  we  discussed  the  subject  and 
foretold  the  straits  to  which  the  country  would  be  reduced 
in  the  event  of  war  with  a  great  European  Power,  he  con- 
cluded these  forebodings  with  the  habitual  remark,  "  Well, 
what  I  says  is,  them  as  lives  longest  will  see  the  most." 
A  truism,  no  doubt,  but,  as  time  has  proved,  by  no  means 
an  incorrect  view. 

There  was  always  plenty  of  employment  for  an  estate 
carpenter  on  my  farms,  as  I  had  a  vast  number  of  buildings, 
including  four  separate  sets  of  barn,  stable,  sheds,  and  yard, 
away  from  the  village,  as  well  as  those  near  the  Manor 
House,  and  many  repairs  were  necessary.  There  were,  too, 
very  many  gates,  repairs  to  fences,  hurdle-making,  and 
odd  jobs,  to  keep  a  man  employed  for  months  at  a  time. 
The  building  of  three  hop-kilns,  with  the  necessary  store- 
rooms for  gi'een  and  dried  hops,  as  the  hop  acreage  increased, 
the  preparation  of  hop-poles,  and  the  erection  of  wire-work 
on  larger  poles,  which  gradually  superseded  the  ordinary 
pole  system,  all  demanded  a  great  deal  of  regular  work. 

I  was  most  fortunate  in  obtaining  the  services  of  a  man 
living  in  a  neighbouring  village,  not  only  as  estate  carpenter, 
but  as  a  skilled  joiner,  and  possessing  all  the  knowledge 
and  efficiency  of  an  experienced  builder.  When  I  first 
met  him,  or  very  soon  afterwards,  Tom  G.  was  a  teetotaller, 
and  I  have  always  had  immense  admiration  for  the  strength 
of  will  which  enabled  him  to  conquer  completely  the  drink 
habit,  for  he  freely  admitted  that  he  was  entirely  mastered 
by  it  in  his  younger  days.  He  told  me,  and  it  proves  what 
a  kindly  word  will  sometimes  do,  that  the  Squire  of  his 
village,  who  also  employed  him  largely,  said  to  him,  after 
praising  some  of  his  work,  "  There's  only  one  thing  the 
matter  with  you,  Tom,  and  that's  the  drink."  "  I  went 
home,"  said  Tom,  "  and  I  thought  to  myself,  if  the  drinis;? 


42  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


is  all  that's  Avrong  with  mc,  what  a  fool  I  must  be  to  con- 
tinue it.  Next  day  I  went  to  Evesham  and  signed  the 
pledge,  and  I've  never  touched  a  drop  since,  though  the 
smell  and  the  sight  of  a  public-house  have  been  so  sore  a 
temptation  that  many  a  time  after  a  long  day's  work, 
and  with  money  in  my  pocket,  I've  gone  a  mile  or  two  out 
of  my  way  in  order  not  to  pass  a  place  of  the  sort." 

His  training  as  a  carpenter  had  induced  habits  of  great 
accuracy,  exact  method,  and  lucid  thought,  and  a  chat  with 
him,  and  watching  his  quick  and  clever  w^orkmanship, 
was  an  educational  opportunity.  I  have  always  been 
fascinated  by  such  work,  and  one  of  my  earliest  recollec- 
tions is  of  being  taken  by  my  father  to  interview  a  carpenter 
about  some  small  household  job.  His  name  was  Snewin — I 
am  not  sure  of  the  spelling,  for  I  was  only  about  eight  years 
old  at  the  time — and  we  found  him  in  his  workshop 
vigorously  using  a  long  plane  on  some  red  deal  boards, 
his  feet  buried  in  beautifully  curled  shavings,  and  the  whole 
place  redolent  of  the  delicious  scent  of  turpentine.  Every 
time  his  plane  travelled  along  the  edge,  to  my  childish 
fancy,  the  board  said  in  plaintive  tones  of  remonstrance, 
in  crescendo,  his  name,  "  Snewin,  Snewin,''  and  again, 
Snewin,"  and  even  now  the  scent  and  action  of  planing 
a  deal  board  always  brings  back  the  scene  clearly  to  my 
mind. 

I  suppose,  therefore,  it  was  partly  old  associations  that 
induced  the  fascination  of  watching  Tom  G.  at  his  work, 
but  there  w'cre  other  reasons.  With  his  axe,  the  edge 
beautifully  ground  and  sharpened  to  a  razor-like  finish, 
he  could  trim  a  piece  of  wood,  or  shape  it,  so  neatly  that  it 
presented  almost  the  appearance  of  having  been  planed; 
his  saw,  with  no  apparent  effort,  raced  from  end  to  end 
of  a  board  or  across  the  grain  of  a  piece  of  "  quartering," 
and  his  chisels  and  plane  irons  were  ground  to  the  correct 
concave  bevel  that  relieves  the  parting  of  a  chip  or  shaving, 
and  gives  what  he  called  "  sweetness  "  to  the  cutting  action. 
He  was  a  strong  Conservative,  good  at  an  argument,  and 
had  many  heated  discussions  with  some  of  my  men  whose 


THE  CARPENTER  43 


tendencies  leaned  to  the  opposite  side;  but  his  sound  logic 
and  common  sense  were  observable  in  all  his  ideas,  and 
I  think  he  generally  came  off  best  as  a  shrewd  and 
clear-headed  debater,  for  from  his  employment  in  various 
places  his  horizon  was  wider  than  that  of  the  ordinary 
farm  labourers. 

Tom  G.  had  considerable  knowledge  of  the  Bible,  which 
he  sometimes  employed  in  conversation;  alluding  to  the 
work  that  was  nearly  always  waitmg  for  him  at  Aldington, 
he  told  a  friend  of  mine  that  there  was  "  earn  (corn)  in 
Egj^t  ";  and  when  he  had  a  written  contract  with  me  for 
a  special  piece  of  work,  and  wished  to  suggest  that  as  time 
went  on  \\c  might  think  of  some  improvement,  and  that 
there  was  no  necessity  to  adhere  to  the  original  specifica- 
tions, he  announced  that  "  we  bean't  Mades,  nor  we  bean't 
Piersians  "  (we're  not  Medes,  nor  are  we  Persians). 

No  necessary  measurement  was  ever  guessed  at,  his 
"  rule  "  was  always  handy  in  a  special  pocket,  but  in  cases 
where  a  rough  guess  was  sufficient  he  would  hazard  it  by 
what  he  called  "  scowl  of  brow  "  (intently  regarding  it). 
The  agricultural  laboiu*er  is  inclined,  both  with  weights 
and  measures,  to  be  inaccurate,  "  reckoning  it's  near 
enough."  I  found  soon  after  I  came  to  Aldington  that  the 
weighing  machine  which  had  been  in  use  throughout  the 
whole  of  my  predecessor's  time,  and  had  weighed  up 
hundreds  of  pounds  of  wool  at  2s.  and  2s.  6d.  a  pound, 
cheese  at  8d.,  and  thousands  of  sacks  of  wheat,  barley, 
and  beans,  was  about  a  pound  in  each  hundredweight 
against  the  seller,  so  that  he  must  have  lost  a  considerable 
sum  in  giving  overweight. 

Tom  G.  was  scornful  about  weather  signs,  and  summed 
up  his  doubts  in  such  matters  with  sarcasm:  "  I  reckon 
that  the  indications  for  rain  are  very  similar  to  the  indica- 
tions for  fine  weather  !"  But  the  best  epigram  I  ever 
heard  from  him  was,  "  There's  a  right  way  and  a  wrong 
way  to  do  everything,  and  folks  most  in  general  chooses  the 
wTong  un  !"  I  should  like  to  see  those  words  of  wisdom 
on  the  title-page  of  every  school  book,  and  blazoned  up 


44  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

in  letters  of  gold  on  the  wall  of  every  classroom  in  every 
school  in  the  kingdom. 

I  have  referred  to  the  hop-kilns  I  built.  Throughout  the 
work  of  erecting  them,  and  it  was  no  small  one,  Tom  G.  was 
the  leading  spirit ;  it  gave  scope  for  his  abilities,  I  think,  on  a 
larger  scale  than  any  building  he  had  previously  undertaken. 
We  began  with  a  kiln  sufficient  for  the  first  6  acres  planted; 
it  was  necessary,  with  the  gradual  extinction  of  British 
corn-growing,  to  find  something  to  supersede  it,  and  to 
compensate  for  the  falling  off  in  farm  receipts.  I  had  seen 
something  of  hops  as  a  pupil  on  a  large  farm  near  Alton, 
Hampshire,  where  they  occupied  an  area  of  over  a  hundred 
acres,  but  at  that  time  I  had  no  intention  of  growing  them 
myself,  and  had  not  been  infected  with  the  glamour, 
formerly  attaching  to  hops  beyond  any  other  crop,  that 
came  to  me  later. 

I  visited  the  old  Alton  farm,  and  obtained  all  particulars 
of  the  latest  kind  of  hop-kiln  in  the  neighbourhood  from  the 
inventor,  and  instructed  him  to  prepare  plans  and  specifica- 
tions for  the  conversion  of  an  old  malthouse  close  to 
the  Manor.  I  contracted  with  Tom  G.  for  all  the  carpen- 
ter's work,  and  with  an  excellent  stonemason  or  brick- 
layer for  that  belonging  to  his  department.  They  both 
entered  with  enthusiasm  upon  the  job,  and  we  had  many 
interesting  discussions  as  to  improvement,  as  it  proceeded. 
Tom  G.  was  a  man  of  great  resource,  and  could  always  find 
a  way  out  of  every  difficulty;  he  told  me,  before  we  began, 
that  he  could  see  the  completed  building  as  if  actually 
finished,  just  as  a  great  sculptor  once  said  how  easy  it  was 
to  produce  a  statue  from  a  block  of  marble,  for  all  he  had 
to  do  was  to  cut  away  the  superfluous  material ! 

The  alterations  entailed  a  new  roof  from  end  to  end  of  the 
old  building,  and  a  new  floor  for  the  upper  part,  the  length 
being  about  70  and  the  width  about  20  feet.  The  old  roof 
was  covered  mostly  with  stone-slates — flakes  of  limestone 
from  the  Cotswolds — very  uneven  in  size  and  rough  as  to 
surface,  and  in  part  with  ordinary  blue  slates.  The  latter 
lie  much  more  closely  on  the  laths,  the  stone  slates  allowing 


THE  CARPENTER  45 


the  passage  of  more  air  between  them,  and  it  was  interest- 
ing to  find  that  while  the  ancient  laths  under  the  stone 
slates  were  fairly  well  preserved,  those  beneath  the  blue 
slates  were  much  decayed,  evidently  from  the  fact  of  the 
damp  in  an  unheated  building  remaining  longer  where  the 
air  was  excluded,  though  one  would  have  expected  the 
close-lying  blue  slates  to  be  the  better  protection  of 
the  two. 

Much  expense  was  saved  by  Tom  G.'s  economical  use  of 
materials;  wherever  the  old  oak  beams  could  be  used  again 
they  were  incorporated  with  the  new  work.  He  never 
cut  sound  old  or  new  pieces  of  timber  to  waste;  almost 
every  scrap  came  in  somewhere,  for  he  worked  with  his 
head  as  well  as  his  hands. 

The  difference  in  this  respect  is  very  noticeable  in 
different  men;  an  old  plumber  once  told  me  that  he  had 
been  employed  upon  a  pump  on  a  neighbouring  farm, 
where  the  slot  in  which  the  handle  works  was  so  worn  on 
one  side  that  the  bolt  which  carries  the  handle  had  given 
way,  owing  to  the  man,  who  had  used  it  for  years,  not 
keeping  it  running  truly  in  the  centre.  He  called  the 
man's  attention  to  the  cause  of  the  damage,  and,  being 
a  sententious  old  fellow,  asked  him  why  he  didn't  think 
what  he  was  doing.  The  answer  was,  "  I'm  not  paid  to 
think." 

The  hop-kiln  was  a  great  success,  and  later,  with  the 
same  workmen,  I  added  two  more,  as  my  hopyards  ex- 
tended, on  exactly  the  same  lines.  They  would  probably 
have  been  annually  in  use  in  the  picking  season  up  to  the 
present  time  had  it  not  been  that  the  low  prices  ruling 
latterly  have  rendered  a  crop  which  requires  so  much 
labour,  knowledge,  and  supervision,  not  worth  growing. 

I  hear,  however,  with  much  satisfaction,  that  these  old 
hop-kilns  and  storerooms  have  been  of  great  service  during 
the  war  for  drying  medicinal  herbs,  chiefly  belladonna  and 
henbane,  and  that  in  1917  the  turnover  exceeded  £6,000. 


CHAPTER  V 

AN  OLD  FASHIONED  SHEPHERD— OLD  THICKER— A 
GARDENER— MY    SECOND    HEAD    CARTER— A    LABOURER 

"  Along  the  cool  sequester'd  vale  of  life 
They  kept  the  noiseless  tenor  of  their  way." 

Gray's  Elegy. 

I  HAD  experiences  of  various  shepherds,  and  the  man  I 
remember  best  was  John  C.  Short,  sturdy,  strong,  and 
wiUing,  he  was  somewhat  prejudiced  and  old-fashioned, 
with  many  traditions  and  inherited  convictions  as  to 
remedies  and  the  treatment  of  sheep.  John  had  a  know- 
ing expression;  his  nose  projected  and  his  forehead  and 
chin  retreated,  so  that  his  profile  was  angular.  He  wore 
the  old-fashioned  long  smock-frock — not  the  modern 
short  linen  jacket  which  goes  by  the  name  of  smock,  but 
a  garment  that  reached  to  his  knees,  with  a  beautifully 
worked  front  over  the  chest.  It  is  a  pity  that  these  old 
smock-frocks  are  no  longer  in  vogue:  I  never  see  one  now; 
they  were  most  picturesque,  and  afforded  great  protection 
from  the  rough  weather  which  a  shepherd  has  constantly 
to  face.  His  hat  was  of  soft  felt,  placed  well  towards  the 
back  of  his  head,  and,  behind  it,  he  wore  a  wealth  of  curls 
overlapping  the  collar  of  his  smock.  John  was  very  proud 
of  his  curls;  he  told  a  group  of  men,  who  were  sheep-dip- 
ping with  him,  that  the  parasites  of  the  sheep,  which  are 
formidable  in  appearance,  never  troubled  him  until  they 
reached  his  head.  "  Into  them  curls,  I  suppose,  John  ?" 
said  a  flippant  bystander.  John  was  pleased  that  his  most 
attractive  feature  should  receive  even  this  recognition. 

Altogether  he  presented  a  notable  figure,  and  one  quite 
typical  of  his  profession,  especially  when  armed  with 
his  staff  of  office,  his  crook.  He  was  inclined  to  super- 
stitious beliefs,  and  told  me  when  I  noticed  the  matted  con- 

46 


AN  OLD-FASHIONED  SHEPHERD  47 

dition  of  the  manes  of  some  colts  domiciled  in  a  distant 
set  of  buildings  that  he  reckoned  "  Old  P.  G." — an  ancient 
dame  in  a  neighbouring  cottage  with  a  reputation  for  witch- 
craft— "  had  been  a-ridin'  of  'em  on  moonlight  nights." 
This  matted  appearance  of  colts'  manes,  which  is  only 
the  natural  result  of  their  not  being  groomed  or  combed 
when  young  and  unbroken,  was  known  in  many  country 
places  as  "  hag-ridden."  Such  superstitions  are  now 
nearly,  if  not  quite,  extinct,  but  still  linger  in  old  place- 
names,  for  it  was  usual  in  former  times  to  attribute  any 
uncommon  or  surprising  physical  appearance  to  super- 
natural agency.  Thus  we  have  such  names  as  "  Devil's 
Dyke,"  "Devil's  Punchbowl,"  ''Puck  Pits,"  "Pokes- 
down  "  (Puck's  Down),  and  many  others. 

The  fairy  rings,  too,  which  puzzled  our  ancestors,  are 
explicable  by  a  natural  process.  The  starting-point  is  a 
fungus,  Marasmius  oreades,  which  in  due  course  sheds  its 
spores  in  a  tiny  circle  around  it;  the  decay  of  the  fungus 
supplies  nitrogen  to  the  grass,  and  renders  it  dark  green  in 
colour.  The  circle  expands,  always  outwards,  more  and 
more  fungi  appearing  every  year;  it  does  not  return  in- 
wards because  the  mineral  constituents  of  the  soil  are  ex- 
hausted by  the  growth  of  the  fungus  and  of  the  grass, 
under  the  stimulus  of  the  abundant  nitrogen  left  by  the 
former,  so  that  the  dark  ring  of  grass  extends  its  diameter 
year  by  year. 

In  the  Tempest  Shakespeare  refers  to  the  fairies : 

"...  That 
By  moonshine  do  the  green  sour  ringlets  make. 
Whereof  the  ewe  not  bites." 

John  carried  a  magic  bottle  of  caustic  liniment  for  appli- 
cation to  the  feet  of  sheep  affected  with  the  complaint 
called  "  foot-rot."  The  cause  of  this  troublesome  disease 
is  excessive  development  of  the  walls  of  the  hoof,  owing  to 
the  animals  grazing  exclusively  on  wet  pasture,  the  sur- 
face of  which  is  too  soft  to  keep  them  worn  down;  the  walls 
gradually  double  over  and  collect  wet  mud,  which  causes 
inflammation.     It    never    occurred    on    my   arable    land, 


48  ^iV  ENGLISH  MANOR 

either  among  ewes  or  younger  sheep,  but  whenever  I 
bought  sheep  from  the  flmt  stones  of  Hampshire  and  grazed 
them  on  soft  pasture,  it  soon  made  its  appearance.  The 
remedy  is  timely  and  constant  paring  of  the  hoof  before 
any  tendency  to  lameness  is  observed,  and  when  this  is 
properly  attended  to  no  caustic  application  is  necessary. 
Lame  sheep  indicate  an  inefficient  shepherd,  and  the  dis- 
order has  been  well  called  "  Shepherd's  Neglect." 

An  eminent  breeder  of  prize  Hampshire  Down  sheep 
told  me  that,  when  contemplating  the  exhibition  of  sheep, 
the  first  necessity  is  to  get  a  "  prize  shepherd,"  a  man  with 
a  presence,  and  a  reputation  which  he  would  not  risk  in 
the  show-ring  without  something  worth  exhibiting.  I 
started  a  flock  of  pedigree  Shropshires,  but  my  land  was 
too  good  and  grew  them  too  big  and  coarse  for  showing, 
and  I  soon  found  that  it  was  useless  to  try,  though  I  suc- 
ceeded in  taking  a  prize  at  the  Warwickshire  county  show. 
It  so  happened  that  when  my  shepherd  (not  John)  returned 
in  great  triumph  from  the  show,  he  found  his  first-born 
son,  who  had  arrived  in  his  absence,  awaiting  him.  "  Well 
done,  shupperd,"  said  a  neighbour,  "got  him  a  son  and  a 
prize  the  same  day  !" 

John  was  jealous  of  any  interference  in  his  remedial 
measures  for  ailing  sheep,  but  my  wife,  who  doctored  the 
village  generally,  was  anxious  to  try  her  hand,  having 
little  faith  in  his  skill;  so  we  arranged  that  the  next  time 
he  had  what  he  considered  a  hopeless  case  it  was  to  be  given 
over  to  her  exclusively.  The  opportunity  soon  occurred; 
a  ewe  was  found  caught  by  the  fleece  in  some  rough  briars 
in  an  old  hedge,  where  it  had  been  some  hours  in  great 
distress,  and,  with  much  struggling  to  free  itself,  it  was 
quite  exhausted.  Pneumonia  supervened,  and  when  John 
thought  it  impossible  to  save  its  life  he  handed  the  case 
over  to  my  wife.  She  succeeded,  chiefly,  I  think,  by  care- 
ful nursing,  in  pulling  it  through,  much  to  John's  surprise; 
doubtless  he  thought  its  recovery  a  lucky  fluke.  John 
was  given  to  occasional  alcoholic  lapses;  on  one  occasion 
I  found  him  aimlessly  driving  sheep  across  a  field  of  grow- 


AN  OLD-FASHIONED  SHEPHERD  49 

ing  mangolds  !  I  could  see  that  he  was  muddled,  and  on 
reaching  home  later  I  sought  an  interview.  He  was  not 
to  be  found,  but  at  his  cottage  his  wife  told  me  that  John 
was  not  very  well.  I  postponed  my  reckoning  till  the 
following  day,  when,  with  great  readiness,  he  explained 
how  it  happened.  "  The  day  before,"  he  said,  "  I  frained 
my  fittle  (refrained  from  my  victuals)  all  day,  and  when 
I  got  up  yesterday  I  didn't  feel  justly  righteous  (quite 
right)  ov  my  inside;  so  I  gets  a  bit  of  'bacca,  just  about  as 
much  as  you  med  put  in  your  pipe  (this,  apparently,  to 
incriminate  me),  and  I  putts  it  at  the  bottom  of  a  tay-cup, 
with  a  drop  ov  rurri;  then  I  fills  it  up  with  hot  tay  and 
drinks  it  off,  and  very  soon  I  felt  it  a  coming  over  (over- 
coming) mer  (me)." 

Sheep-breeding  was  not  one  of  the  most  important 
branches  of  farming  in  my  part  of  Worcestershire:  the 
land  is  too  stiff  and  wet,  they  thrive  much  better  on  the 
Cots  wolds  or  the  chalk  downs  of  Hampshire.  At  one  time 
I  visited  the  latter  county  every  summer,  attending  the 
big  fairs  like  Overton  or  Alresford,  for  the  purpose  of 
buying  100  draft  ("  full-mouthed  ")  ewes  from  one  of  the 
best  flocks.  It  was  very  interesting  in  the  early  morning, 
reaching  Overton  by  rail  from  Basingstoke,  where  I  had 
passed  the  night  at  the  Red  Lion  with  £300  in  bank-notes 
under  my  pillow,  to  see  the  gipsies  in  the  village  asleep  on 
the  ground  under  their  vans,  the  girls  sometimes  awake, 
combing  their  hair,  and  beautifying  themselves  in  readiness 
for  the  pleasure  fair  where  they  were  to  appear  in  charge 
of  the  shooting-galleries  and  competitions.  A  short  walk, 
with  only  time  for  a  passing  glance  at  the  speckled  trout 
near  the  bridge  over  the  Itchen,  which  I  never  omitted, 
took  me  to  the  sheep-pens  on  the  hill-top  where  the  fair  is 
held.  One  could  see  the  flocks,  with  their  shepherds 
always  in  front  and  the  dogs  behind,  winding  along  the 
narrow  lanes,  which,  from  all  directions,  lead  to  the  hill,  in  a 
cloud  of  chalky  dust,  flock  after  flock  with  only  a  few  divid- 
ing yards  between  them.  It  is  advisable  to  reach  the  fair- 
ground thus  early,  to  see  the  sheep  before  they  are  penned; 

4 


50  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

they  can  be  much  better  inspected  in  the  open  than  when 
packed  close  together,  and  a  more  rehablc  opinion  of  their 
condition  can  be  formed.  From  the  aesthetic  point  of  view 
the  grand  old  shepherds  interested  me  most,  dignified, 
patriarchal  men,  with  a  reserve  of  strength  of  character 
evident  in  their  rugged  features,  and  the  patience  and  hardi- 
hood that  takes  little  heed  of  exposure  to  every  variety 
of  weather. 

The  sheep  were  sold  by  auction,  and  when  I  had  bought 
a  pen  of  100,  generally  from  Lord  Ashburton's  flock,  paid 
the  auctioneer's  clerk  as  soon  as  possible  and  received  a 
ticket  permitting  the  release  of  the  sheep,  as  the  roads 
in  all  directions  are  soon  crowded,  I  induced  the  shepherd 
to  help  in  driving  them  to  the  railway-station.  He  was 
always  a  dear  old  fellow,  and  full  of  interesting  information. 
On  reaching  the  station  we  packed  the  sheep  into  three  open 
trucks,  so  close  that  they  could  not  jump  out,  and  despatched 
them  to  Worcestershire,  whither  they  would  arrive  about 
noon  the  following  day.  We  never  had  a  mishap  with  them 
on  the  journey,  but  they  were  terribly  thirsty  on  reaching 
Aldington,  and  made  straight  for  water  immediately. 

Old  Tricker  came  to  Worcestershire  originally  with  a 
farmer  who  migrated  from  Suffolk,  which  proves  him  to 
have  been  a  valuable  man.  But  he  was  worn  out  even 
when  he  first  came  to  work  for  me,  though  as  willing  and 
industrious  as  ever.  My  bailiff  often  praised  him — for  his 
work  was  excellent,  if  somewhat  slow  on  account  of  his 
age — and  used  to  tell  him  that  "  All  as  be  the  matter  with 
you,  Tricker,  is  that  you  was  born  too  soon,"  which  was 
only  too  true,  for  he  must  have  been  the  oldest  man  on  the 
farm  by  at  least  twenty  years.  He  was  a  steady  worker, 
and  was  often  so  absorbed  in  his  job,  such  as  hoeing,  that, 
being,  moreover,  somewhat  deaf,  he  was  not  aware  of 
my  approach  until  I  was  quite  close.  On  such  occasions, 
with  a  violent  start,  he  always  said:  "  My  word,  how  you 
did  frighten  I,  to  be  sure  !  Shows  I  don't  look  about  me 
much,  however,  don't  it  ?" 


OLD  TRICKER  51 


He  was  fond  of  fairs,  wakes,  and  "  mops  " — no  doubt 
they  were  reminiscent  of  old  days,  for  he  hvcd  in  the  past 
— and  he  would  often  beg  a  day  off  for  such  outings;  he 
was  a  subject  for  the  chaff  of  the  other  men  for  his  gaiety 
when  these  jaunts  took  place.  They  pretended  that,  as 
a  widower  for  many  years,  it  was  time  for  him  to  think  of 
another  courtship.  On  a  festive  occasion,  when  we  were 
giving  a  dinner  to  all  the  men  and  their  wives,  great  amuse- 
ment was  caused  by  crackers,  which  the  guests,  I  think, 
had  never  seen  before,  containing  paper  caps  and  imitation 
jewellery;  and  it  was  a  merry  scene  when  all  around  the 
tables  were  decorated  in  the  most  incongruous  fashion. 
Old  Tricker  happened  to  become  possessed  of  a  plain  gilt 
wedding-ring,  and  of  course  chaff  was  levelled  at  him  from 
all  sides:  "Ah,  Tricker;  sly  dog,  sly  dog!"  and  so  on. 
He  was  greatly  pleased,  accepting  good-naturedly  the 
part  of  pantaloon  of  the  piece;  and  I  am  sure,  from  his 
beaming  smiles,  he  felt,  for  a  time  at  least,  dozens  of 
years  younger. 

Years  before,  when  still  able  to  do  a  good  day's  work,  he 
walked  to  Ipswich  to  revisit  his  old  home,  a  distance  of 
about  160  miles,  which  he  accomplished  in  four  days, 
and  returned  in  the  same  time.  He  had  been  specially 
struck  by  the  building  of  a  new  post-office  there — this 
must  have  been  at  least  thirty  years  before  the  time  of 
which  I  am  writing.  One  of  my  brothers  who  lived  near 
Ipswich  was  visiting  me,  and  I  introduced  him  to  the  old 
man,  knowing  that  they  would  have  common  interests. 
No  sooner  did  Tricker  hear  that  my  brother  had  just  come 
from  Ipswich  than  he  inquired  anxiously  if  the  new  post- 
office  was  finished.  "  Oh  yes,  and  pulled  down  some  years 
ago,  and  a  new  one  built !"  Tricker  was  astonished;  the 
years  had  evidently  slipped  by  him  unnoticed,  and  no 
record  of  dates  remained  in  his  memory. 

Tricker  often  got  a  little  mixed  in  the  names  of  novelties 
or  in  unusual  words.  I  chanced  to  pass  him  one  day  along 
the  road,  on  my  omnicycle,  and  next  time  I  saw  him  he 
referred  to  it,  adding:  "I  didn't  know  as  you'd  got  a 


52  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

phlorsopher  (velocipede  and  philosopher)  "!  Some  ol'  my 
land  had  been  occupied  by  the  Romans  in  very  distant 
days,  and  coins  and  pottery  were  frequently  found. 
Tricker,  having  heard  of  the  Romans,  also  of  Roman 
Catholics,  jumbled  them  together,  and  "  reckoned  "  that 
the  former  inhabitants  of  these  fields  w  ere  "  some  of  those 
old  Romans  or  Cartholics." 

This  mixture  of  words,  generally  bearing  some  relation 
to  each  other,  was  not  infrequently  carried  still  further 
by  making  one  word  of  two.  With  some  of  the  villagers 
*'  conservatory "  stood  for  conservative  and  tory,  and 
"  containment  "  for  concert  and  entertainment.  A  mes- 
senger who  was  asked  to  bring  Daniel  Deronda  from  the 
Evesham  library  returned  with  the  announcement  that 
"  Dannel  Deronomy  "  was  not  available;  this  appeared  to 
be  a  confusion  between  the  books  of  Daniel  and  Deutero- 
nomy. A  cook  (not  a  Worcestershire  person)  was  asked  if 
the  papers  had  come.  "  Yes;  the  Standard  has  arrived, 
but  not  the  Condy's  fluid  {Connoisseur)  "!  The  regatta  at 
Evesham  was  always  "  the  regretta."  An  old  sexton 
working  in  a  churchyard,  from  whom  I  inquired  if  there 
was  a  bridge  over  the  river,  replied:  "  Only  a  temperance 
bridge  (temporary  bridge)." 

Tricker,  as  a  very  typical  representative  of  the  agri- 
cultural labourer  in  old  age,  was  engaged  as  model  for  a 
figure  in  a  picture  by  Mr.  Chevalier  Taylor,  then  staying  in 
Badsey.  He  sat  in  this  capacity  when  work  was  not  very 
pressing,  and  day  by  day  used  to  repair  to  the  artist's 
lodgings  with  his  tools  on  his  shoulder.  His  remunera- 
tion was  half  a  crown  a  day — ordinary  day  wages  for  an 
able-bodied  man — but  he  told  me  that  the  inaction  was 
very  trying,  and  that  a  day  as  model  was  much  more 
exacting  than  a  day's  work  on  the  farm. 

When  the  old  man  could  no  longer  complete  even  a 
short  day's  work,  and  suffered  from  the  cold  in  winter, 
he  decided  to  go  to  the  workhouse  for  a  time,  but  he  was 
out  again  before  the  cuckoo  was  singing,  and  we  found  him 
light  jobs  "  by  the  piece,"  so  that  he  could  work  for  as  long 


A  GARDENER  58 


or  as  short  a  time  as  suited  him.  He  was  most  grateful 
for  any  assistance,  and  told  me  that  "  A  little  help  is 
worth  a  deal  of  sympathy."  Eventually  he  became  a 
permanent  inmate  of  the  workhouse,  much  to  my  grief; 
but  it  is,  of  course,  impossible  to  run  a  farm  on  which 
heavy  poor-rate  has  to  be  paid,  as  a  philanthropic 
institution.  The  difficulty  with  aged  and  infirm  persons 
is  not  so  much  food  and  maintenance  as  the  necessity  for 
nursing  and  supervision,  which  are  expensive  and  difficult 
to  arrange.  Tricker  told  me  that  he  could  live  on  sixpence 
a  day,  and  if  it  had  been  a  question  of  food  only,  and  our 
village  could  have  cut  itself  adrift  from  the  Union  and  the 
rates  it  entailed,  we  could  easily  have  more  than  kept  the 
poor  old  man  to  the  end  of  his  days  in  comfort.  For 
years  he  was  the  only  parishioner  receiving  any  help  from 
the  immense  sum  the  parish  annually  paid  in  rates.  I  have 
heard  it  said  that  out  of  every  shilling  of  the  ratepayer's 
contributions  the  poor  people  only  get  twopence  or  its 
equivalent,  the  officials  and  administration  expenses 
absorbing  the  remaining  tenpence. 

My  first  gardener  had  been  employed  at  the  Manor, 
when  I  came,  for  very  many  years,  and  at  the  end  of  ten 
more  he  was  obliged  to  resign  through  old  age.  He  had 
planted  the  poplars  round  the  mill-pond  in  his  earliest  days, 
and,  among  other  trees,  the  beautiful  weeping  wych-elm 
on  the  lawn  behind  the  house.  The  weeping  effect  he 
produced  by  beheading  the  tree  when  quite  small  and  graft- 
ing it  with  a  slip  of  the  weeping  variety,  and  the  junction 
was  still  plainly  visible.  It  was  a  symmetrical  and, 
especially  when  in  bloom,  a  lovely  tree,  but  as  the  blossoms 
died  and  scattered  themselves  all  over  the  grass,  they 
worried  the  methodical  old  man,  and  every  spring  he 
wished  it  had  never  been  planted.  It  had  flourished 
amazingly,  and  we  could  comfortably  find  sitting  room  at  tea 
for  sixty  or  seventy  people  at  a  garden-party  in  its  shade. 

He  was  an  excellent  gardener,  but  did  not  care  about 
novelties  in  flowers,  though  at  one  time  he  made  a  hobby  of 


54  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


raising  new  kinds  of  potatoes.  His  greatest  success  was 
the  original  Ashlcaf  variety,  the  stock  of  which  he  sold 
to  Mr.  Myatt  for  a  guinea,  and  which  was  afterwards  intro- 
duced to  the  public  as  "  Myatt's  Early  Ashleaf."  It  was 
one  of  the  best  potatoes  ever  gro\vn,  very  early,  and  splen- 
did in  quality,  and  it  was  unfortunate  that  he  parted  with 
it  so  cheaply,  though,  of  course,  the  purchaser  of  the  first 
few  tubers  had  no  idea  of  its  immense  potential  value, 
and  possibly,  like  so  many  novelties,  it  might  have  proved 
a  failure.  It  is  still  in  cultivation,  though  its  constitution 
is  impaired,  like  that  of  all  potatoes  of  long  standing. 
Later  on  I  shall  have  more  to  say  about  this  unfortunate 
tendency  to  deterioration. 

J.  E.  was  one  of  my  most  reliable  men,  working  for  me, 
first  as  under-carter  and  afterwards  as  head  carter,  for,  I 
think,  altogether  twenty-six  j''ears;  he  was  well  educated 
and  a  great  reader,  quiet  and  somewhat  reserved,  and 
though  his  humour  did  not  lie  on  the  surface,  he  could 
appreciate  a  joke.  My  recollections  of  him,  after  his 
steadmess  and  reliability,  are  chiefly  of  his  personal 
mishaps,  for  he  was  an  unlucky  man  in  this  particular. 

I  was  on  my  round  one  morning  when  I  met  a  breathless 
carter-boy  making  for  the  village.  Asked  where  he  was 
off  to,  "  Please,  sir,"  he  replied,  "  I  be  to  fetch  Master  E. 
another  pair  of  trowsers  !"  "  Trousers,"  said  I:  "  what  on 
earth  for  ?"  "  Please,  sir,  the  bull  ha'  ripped  'cm  !"  I 
hurried  on,  and  soon  saw  that  it  was  no  laughing  matter, 
for  I  found  poor  E.  in  a  terrible  plight  of  rags  and  tatters, 
sitting  in  a  cart-shed  in  some  outlying  buildings,  on  a 
roller.  The  cowman  was  standing  by  holding  a  Jersey 
bull.  The  story  was  soon  told.  The  cowman,  having  to  go 
into  the  yard,  had  asked  E.  to  hold  the  bull  a  minute. 
Unfortunately,  the  animal  had  only  a  halter  on  him,  the 
cowman  having  omitted  to  bring  the  stick,  with  hook  and 
swivel,  to  attach  to  the  bull's  nose-ring.  No  sooner  was 
the  cowman  out  of  sight  than  the  bull  began  to  fret,  and, 
turning  upon  E.,  knocked  him  down  between  a  mangold- 


MY  SECOND  HEAD  CARTER  55 


bury  and  the  outside  wall  of  the  yard.  In  this  position 
he  was  unable  to  get  a  direct  attack  upon  the  man,  but  he 
managed  to  gore  him  badly  and  tear  his  clothes  to  pieces. 
The  cowman,  hearing  E.  calling,  came  back  and  rescued 
him,  the  bull  becoming  quite  docile  with  his  regular  atten- 
dant. Poor  E.  was  black  and  blue  when  he  got  home 
in  the  pony-cart,  and  was  laid  up  for  many  weeks  after- 
wards. He  undoubtedly  had  a  very  narrow  escape.  It  is 
curious  that,  though  the  Jersey  cows  are  the  most  docile 
of  any  kind,  the  bulls  are  the  most  uncertain  and,  when 
annoyed,  savage;  I  had  trouble  with  two  or  three,  and  one 
became  so  dangerous  that  he  had  to  be  killed  in  his 
stall. 

E.'s  bad  luck  overtook  him  again  when  returning  from 
Evesham  %vith,  fortunately,  an  empty  waggon  and  team; 
one  of  the  horses  was  startled,  and  E.  ran  forwards  to 
catch  the  reins.  By  some  means  he  fell,  and  the  waggon- 
wheels  passed  over  him;  had  it  been  full,  as  it  was  on  the 
outward  journey,  with  a  heavy  load  of  beans,  it  would  have 
been  a  serious  matter,  but  nevertheless  he  suffered  a  great 
deal  for  some  time  afterwards. 

J.  E.  must  have  walked  many  hundreds  of  miles  among 
my  hops  with  the  horses  drawing  "  the  mistifier,"  a 
sjQ'inging  machine  which  pumped  a  mist-like  spray  of 
soft  soap  and  quassia  solution  upon  the  under-side  of  the 
hop-leaves,  when  attacked  by  the  aphis  blight;  and  he 
must  have  destroyed  many  millions  of  aphides,  for  the 
blight  was  an  annual  occurrence  at  Aldington,  and  taxed 
our  energies  to  the  utmost  at  one  of  the  busiest  times  of 
year. 

Mrs.  J.  E.  was,  and  is,  one  of  those  kind  persons  always 
ready  to  do  a  good  turn  to  a  neighbour.  She  and  her  hus- 
band brought  up  a  large  family,  all  of  whom  have  done 
well,  and  a  son  in  the  Grenadier  Guards  especially  distin- 
guished himself  in  the  war.  She  has  a  remarkable  memory 
for  dates  of  birthdays,  weddings,  and  such-like  events, 
and  often  writes  us  one  of  her  interesting  letters,  full  of 
information  of  the  old  village. 


56  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

I  had  many  experiences  of  the  honesty  of  the  agricultural 
labourer,  but  one  especially  remains  in  my  mind.  I.  P., 
a  man  living  some  two  miles  from  Aldington,  regularly 
walked  the  four  miles  there  and  back  for  many  years, 
in  addition  to  his  day's  work.  He  was  an  excellent 
drainer,  and  a  most  useful  all-round  man,  exceedingly 
strong  and  willing,  bright  and  cheerful  in  conversation, 
and  I  had  a  very  high  opinion  of  him.  I  had  just  reached 
the  end  of  a  long  pay  when  he  reappeared — having  taken 
his  wages  earlier  in  the  proceedings — and  asked  if  I  had 
made  a  mistake  in  his  money;  a  sovereign  was  missing, 
and  he  could  not  remember  actually  taking  it  from  the 
table  with  the  rest  of  the  cash.  I  at  once  balanced  my 
payments  and  receipts  for  the  evening,  but  they  corre- 
sponded exactly.  It  was  a  serious  matter,  as  a  half-year's 
rent  was  due  to  the  owner  of  his  cottage  that  day,  and  I.  P. 
was  one  of  those  men  who  take  a  pride  in  paying  up  with 
punctuality.  I  could  see,  as  he  realized  that  the  sovereign 
was  lost,  how  disappointed  and  worried  he  felt,  and  being 
glad  of  an  opportunity  to  do  him  a  good  turn,  I  gave  him 
another,  and  sent  him  away  very  grateful.  Later  still  he 
returned  again,  placed  a  sovereign  on  my  table,  and  said 
that  he  had  nearly  reached  home  when  he  felt  something 
hard  against  his  knee,  inside  his  corduroys,  where  he  found 
the  missing  coin;  there  was  a  hole  in  his  pocket,  but  the 
encircling  string  which  labourers  tie  below  the  knee  had 
prevented  its  escape. 


CHAPTER  VI 

CHARACTERISTICS   OF  AGRICULTURAL  LABOURERS    AND 
VILLAGERS 

"  My  crown  is  in  my  heart,  not  on  my  head : 
Not  deck'd  with  diamonds  and  Indian  stones, 
Nor  to  be  seen:  my  crown  is  called  content." 

3  Henry  VI. 

The  agricultural  labourer,  and  the  countryman  generally, 
does  not  recognize  any  form  of  property  beyond  land, 
houses,  buildings,  farm  stock,  and  visible  chattels.  A 
groom  whom  I  questioned  concerning  a  new-comer,  a 
wealthy  man,  in  the  neighbourhood,  summed  him  up 
thus:  "Oh,  not  much  account — only  one  hoss  and  a 
brougham  !"  A  railway  may  run  through  the  parish, 
worth  millions  of  invested  capital,  but  the  labourer  does 
not  recognize  it  as  such,  and  a  farmer,  employing  a  few 
men  and  with  two  or  three  thousand  pounds  in  farm 
stock,  is  a  bigger  man  in  his  eyes  than  a  rich  man  whose 
capital  is  invisible. 

The  labourer  in  the  days  of  which  I  am  writing  was 
inclined  to  be  suspicious  of  savings  banks  and  deposit 
accounts  at  a  banker's  ;  his  savings  represented  a  vast 
amount  of  hard  work  and  self-denial ;  and  he  looked 
askance  at  security  other  than  an  old  stocking  or  a  teapot. 
He  had  heard  of  banks  breaking,  and  felt  uncomfortable 
about  them.  A  story  was  current  in  my  neighbourhood 
of  a  Warwickshire  bank  in  difficulties,  where  a  run  was  in 
progress.  A  van  appeared,  from  which  many  heavy 
sacks  were  carried  into  the  bank,  in  the  presence  of  the 
crowd  waiting  outside  to  draw  out  their  money.  Some  of 
the  sacks  were  seen  to  be  open,  and  apparently  full  of 
sovereigns;  confidence  was  restored,  and  the  run  ceased. 
Later,  when  all  danger  was  over,  it  transpired  that  these 

57 


58  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

supposed  resources  were  fictitious,  for  the  open  sacks 
contained  only  corn  with  a  thin  layer  of  gold  on  the  top. 

Formerly  it  was  said  of  a  certain  street  in  Evesham, 
chiefly  inhabited  by  market-gardeners  and  their  labourers, 
that  the  houses  contamed  more  gold  than  both  the  banks 
in  the  town,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that,  even  at  the  present 
day,  there  is  an  inmiense  amount  of  hoarded  money  in 
country  places.  Only  a  short  while  ago,  long  after  the 
commencement  of  the  Great  War,  the  sale  of  a  small 
property  took  place  in  my  neighbourhood,  when  the  pur- 
chaser paid  down  in  gold  a  sum  of  £600,  the  bulk  of  which 
had  earned  no  interest  during  the  years  of  collection. 
No  doubt  people,  as  a  rule,  in  these  days  of  war  bonds  and 
certificates,  have  a  better  idea  of  investment,  but  probably 
a  vast  sum  in  possible  loans  has  been  lost  to  the  Govern- 
ment through  want  of  previous  information  on  the  sub- 
ject. It  should  have  been  a  simple  matter,  during  the  last 
fifty  years  of  compulsory  education,  to  teach  the  rudiments 
of  finance  in  the  elementary  schools,  and  I  commend  the 
matter  as  worth  the  consideration  of  educational  enthusiasts. 

The  labourer's  attitude,  as  I  have  said,  is  suspicious 
towards  lawyers.  I  was  chatting  with  a  man,  specially 
taken  on  for  harvest,  who  expressed  doubts  of  them;  he 
continued,  "  If  anybody  were  to  leave  me  a  matter  of  fifty 
pounds  or  so,  I'd  freely  give  it  'em,"  meaning  that  by  the 
time  all  charges  were  paid  he  would  not  expect  more  than 
a  trifle,  because  he  supposed  stamps  and  duties  to  be  a 
part  of  the  lawyer's  remuneration,  and  that  very  little 
would  be  left  when  all  was  paid. 

I  was  once  discussing  farming  matters  with  a  labourer 
when  prospects  were  looking  very  black,  and  ended  by 
saying  that  I  expected  soon  to  be  in  the  workhouse. 
"  Ah,  sir,"  said  he,"  I  wish  I  were  no  nearer  the  workhouse 
nor  you  be  !"  It  should  not  be  forgotten  that  the  agri- 
cultural labourer's  financial  horizon  does  not  extend  much 
beyond  the  next  pay  night,  and  were  it  not  for  the 
generosity  of  his  neighbours — for  the  poor  are  exceedingly 
good  to  each  other  in  times  of  stress — a  few  weeks'  illness 


LABOURERS  AND  VILLAGERS  59 

or  unemployment,  especially  where  the  children  are  too 
yomig  to  earn  anything,  may  find  him  at  the  end  of  his 
resources. 

Almost  the  first  time  I  went  to  Evesham,  in  passing 
Chipping  Norton  Junction — now  Kingham — three  or  four 
men  on  the  platform,  in  charge  of  the  police,  attracted  my 
attention.  I  was  told  that  they  were  rioters,  guilty  of  a 
breach  of  the  peace  in  connection  with  the  National 
Agricultural  Labourers'  Union,  then  under  the  leadership 
of  Joseph  Arch.  Being  so  close  to  my  new  neighbourhood, 
where  I  was  just  beginning  farming,  the  incident  w^as 
somewhat  of  a  shock.  Arch  undoubtedly  was  the  chief 
instrument  in  raising  the  agricultural  labourer's  wages  to 
the  extent  of  two  or  three  shillings  a  week,  and  the  increase 
was  justified,  as  every  necessity  was  dear  at  the  time, 
owing  to  the  great  activity  of  trade  towards  the  end  of 
the  sixties.  The  farmers  resisted  the  rise  only  because, 
already  in  the  early  seventies,  the  flood  of  American  com- 
petition in  corn-growing  was  reducing  values  of  our  own 
produce ;  and  as  all  manufactured  goods  which  the  farmer 
required  had  largely  increased  in  price,  he  did  not  see  his 
way  to  incur  a  higher  labour  bill. 

Arch  sent  a  messenger  to  me  a  few  years  later,  to  ask  per- 
mission to  hold  a  meeting  in  Aldington  in  one  of  my 
meadows.  I  saw  at  once  that  opposition  would  only 
stimulate  antagonism,  and  consented.  The  meeting  was 
held,  but  only  a  few  labourers  attended,  and  no  farmers, 
and  agitation,  so  far  as  we  were  concerned,  died  down. 
One  or  two  of  my  men  were,  I  think,  members  of  the  Union, 
but  having  already  obtained  the  increased  wages  there  was 
nothing  more  to  be  gained  for  themselves  by  so  continu- 
ing, and  they  soon  dropped  out  of  the  list.  Eventually 
the  organization  collapsed.  Arch  was  a  labourer  him- 
self, and  exceedingly  clever  at  "  laying "  hedges,  or 
"  pleaching,"  as  it  is  still  called,  and  was  called  by  Shake- 
speare in  Much  Ado  About  Nothing  : 

"  Bid  her  steal  into  the  pleached  bower, 
Where  honeysuckles,  ripen'd  by  the  sun, 
Forbid  the  sun  to  enter." 


60  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

Pleaching  is  a  method  of  reducing  and  renovating  an  over- 
grown hedge  by  which  all  old  and  exhausted  wood  is  cut 
out,  leaving  live  vertical  stakes  at  intervals,  and  winding 
the  young  stuff  in  and  out  of  them  in  basket-making  fashion, 
after  notching  it  at  the  base  to  allow  of  bending  it  down 
without  breakage.  Arch  was  a  native  of  Warwickshire, 
the  home  of  this  art;  it  takes  a  skilled  man  to  ensure  a 
good  result,  but  when  well  done  an  excellent  hedge  is  pro- 
duced after  two  or  three  years'  growth.  The  quickset 
or  whitethorn  (May)  makes  the  strongest  and  most  im- 
pervious hedge,  and  it  flourishes  amazingly  on  the  stiff 
clay  soils  of  the  Lias  formation  in  that  county  and  its 
neighbour  Worcestershire. 

I  have  often  wondered  at,  and  admired,  the  labourer's 
resignation  and  fortitude  in  adversity;  a  discontented  or 
surly  face  is  rarely  seen  among  them;  they  have,  like  most 
people,  to  live  lives  of  self-sacrifice,  frugality,  and  industry, 
which  doubtless  bring  their  own  compensation,  for  the 
exercise  and  habit  of  these  very  virtues  tend  to  the  cheer- 
fulness and  courage  which  never  give  up.  Possibly,  too, 
the  open-air  life,  the  vitalizing  sunshine,  the  sound  sleep, 
and  the  regularity  of  the  routine,  endows  them  with  an 
enviable  power  of  enjoyment  of  what  some  would  consider 
trifles.  After  a  long  day  out  of  doors  in  the  natural 
beauty  of  the  country,  who  shall  say  that  the  labourer's 
appetite  for  his  evening  meal,  his  pipe  of  tobacco  beside 
his  bright  fireside,  and  his  detachment  from  the  outside 
world,  do  not  afford  him  as  great  or  greater  enjoyment 
than  the  elaborate  luxury  of  the  millionaire,  with  his  in- 
numerable distractions  and  responsibilities  ? 

The  labourer  has,  as  I  have  said,  little  appreciation  of  the 
invisible  or  what  does  not  appeal  strongly  to  his  senses; 
he  cannot  understand,  for  instance,  that  a  small  bag  of 
chemical  fertilizer,  in  the  form  of  a  grey,  inoffensive 
powder,  can  contain  as  great  a  potentiality  for  the  nutrition 
of  crops  as  a  cartload  of  evil-smelling  material  from  the 
farmyard;  nor  is  he  aware  that,  in  the  case  of  the  latter, 
he  has  to  load  and  unload  90  pounds  or  thereabouts  of 


LABOURERS  AND  VILLAGERS  61 

worthless  water  in  every  100  pounds  with  which  he  deals. 
Possibly,  however,  his  preference  for  the  natural  fertilizer 
is  not  wholly  misplaced,  for  there  is,  no  doubt,  much  still 
to  be  learned  concerning  the  relative  values  of  natural 
and  artificial  compounds  with  special  reference  to  the  bac- 
terial inoculation  of  the  soil  and  its  influence  on  vegetable 
life. 

He  is  not  without  some  aesthetic  feeling  for  the  glories 
of  Nature  daily  before  him,  and  though  like  Peter  Bell, 
of  whom  we  are  told  that 

"  A  primrose  by  a  rivers  brim 
A  yellow  primroso  was  to  him, 
And  it  was  nothing  more," 

and  putting  aside  the  metaphysical  analogy  and  the  moral 
teaching  which  are  presented  by  every  tree  and  plant,  he 
enjoys,  I  know,  the  simple  beauty  of  the  flower  itself,  the 
exhilarating  freslmess  of  the  bright  spring  morning,  the 
prodigality  of  the  summer  foliage,  the  ripe  autumnal 
glow  of  the  harvest-field,  and  the  sparkling  frost  of  a 
winter's  day.  But  he  very  rarely  expresses  his  enthusiasm 
in  superlatives:  "  a  usefulish  lot,"  and  "  a  smartish  few," 
meaning  in  Worcestershire  "  a  very  good  lot,"  and  "  a 
gi-eat  many,"  is  about  the  limit  to  which  he  will  commit 
himself.  His  natural  reticence  in  serious  situations  and 
calamity,  and  his  reserve  in  the  outlet  of  feeling  by  vocal 
expression,  give  a  wrong  impression  of  its  real  depth, 
and  may  even  convey  the  impression  of  callousness  to 
anyone  not  conversant  with  the  working  of  his  mind. 

To  a  nephew  of  mine  who  was  surprised  to  see  his 
gardener's  little  son  leaving  the  garden,  the  man  explained: 
"  That  little  fellow  be  come  to  tell  I  a  middlinish  bit  of 
news;  'e  come  to  say  as  his  little  sister  be  de-ad."  Notice 
the  "  middlinish  bit  of  news,"  where  a  much  stronger  ex- 
pression would  have  been  justified,  and  note  the  restraint 
as  to  his  loss,  suggesting  an  unfeeling  mind,  though  in 
reality  very  far  from  the  grief  he  was  shy  of  expressing. 

An  old  woman  in  a  parish  adjoining  mine,  having  lost  a 
child,  received  the  condolences  of  a  visitor  with,  *'  Yes, 


62  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


mum;  we  seems  to  be  regular  unlucky,  for  only  a  few 
weeks  ago  we  lost  a  pig." 

A  lady  well  known  to  me,  the  daughter  of  the  Vicar 
of  a  Cumberland  parish,  was  calling  on  a  woman  whose 
husband  had  died  a  few  days  previously,  and  express- 
ing her  sympathy  with  the  widow  in  her  affliction,  spoke 
of  the  sadness  of  the  circumstances.  The  widow  thanked 
her  visitor,  and  added:  "  You  know,  miss,  we  was  to  have 
killed  a  pig  that  week,  but  there,  we  couldn't  'ave  'em 
both  about  at  the  same  time  "  ! 

All  these  incidents  suggest  callousness,  but  in  reality 
they  were  plain  statements  of  fact  from  persons  with  a 
limited  vocabulary  and  unskilled  in  the  niceties  of  polished 
language. 

Another  incident  will  illustrate  how  faulty  expression 
may  give  an  unintended  impression.  A  lady,  calling  at  a 
cottage,  exclaimed  with  appreciation  at  the  fragrant  odour 
of  frying  bacon  which  greeted  her.  The  cottager  was  busy 
with  it  at  the  fire.  "  Yes,  miss,"  she  said,  "  it  is  nice  to 
'ave  a  bit  of  bacon  as  you've  waited  on  yourself" — of 
course,  referring  to  the  fact  that  she  knew  the  animal 
was  always  fed  on  really  good  food,  an  important  and  re- 
assuring condition,  though  a  tender  heart  might  have  re- 
gretted the  sacrifice  of  an  intimate  creature  which  some 
would  have  regarded  almost  as  a  pet. 

The  cottager  does  not  look  upon  his  pig  in  that  light; 
it  is  fed  well  and  comfortably  housed  with  a  definite  object, 
and  very  little  love  is  lost  between  the  pig  and  his  master. 
Children  in  some  places  in  Worcestershire  were  formerly 
kept  at  home  m  order  to  be  present  on  the  great  occasion 
of  the  pig's  obsequies.  A  woman,  asked  why  her  children 
were  absent  from  school,  replied:  "  Well,  sir,  you  see,  we 
killed  our  pig  that  day,  and  I  kept  the  children  at  home 
for  a  treat;  there's  no  harm  in  that,  sir,  I'm  sure,  for  pigs 
alius  dies  without  malice  !" 

Villagers  accept  the  novel  significations  which  time  or 
fashion  gradually  confer  upon  old  words  very  unreadily. 
I  could  see,  at  first,  that  they  were  puzzled  by  my  use  of  the 


LABOURERS  AND  VILLAGERS  63 

jl. 


word  "  awful,"  now  long  adopted  generally  to  strengthen 
a  statement,  very  much  as  they  themselves  make  use  of 
"terrible,"  "  desp'rate,"  or  "  de-adly."  They  connect 
the  word  "  friend  "  with  the  signification  "  benefactor  " 
only;  a  man,  speaking  of  someone  born  with  a  little  in- 
herited fortune,  said  that  "  his  friends  lived  before  him." 
I  told  an  old  labourer  that  my  little  daughter  considered 
him  a  great  friend  of  hers.  He  looked  puzzled,  and  replied  : 
"  Well,  I  don't  know  as  I  ever  gave  her  anything."  They 
still  distinguish  between  two  words  now  carrying  the  same 
meaning.  I  told  a  man  that  I  was  afraid  some  work  he 
had  for  me  would  give  him  a  lot  of  trouble.  He  corrected 
me:  "  'Twill  be  no  trouble,  master,  only  labour.'' 

The  labourer  does  not  appreciate  a  sudden  order  or  an 
um'easonable  change  in  work  once  commenced;  he  does 
not  like  being  taken  by  surprise  in  such  matters :  the  neces- 
sary tool — for  farm  labourers  find  their  own  hand  imple- 
ments— may  not  be  readily  available,  may  be  out  of  order, 
require  grinding,  or  a  visit  to  the  blacksmith's  for  repair 
or  readjustment.  The  wise  master  introduces  the  subject, 
whenever  possible,  gradually  beforehand.  "  We  shall  have 
to  think  about  wheat-hoeing,  mowing,  potato-digging, 
next  week,"  prepares  the  man  for  the  occasion,  so  that  when 
the  time  comes  he  has  his  hoe,  axe,  scythe,  or  bill-hook,  as 
the  case  may  be,  ready.  The  job,  too,  may  demand  some 
special  clothing — hedging  gloves,  gaiters,  new  shoes,  and 
so  forth. 

He  is  often  suspicious  of  new  arrangements  or  alteration 
of  hours,  and  is  inclined  to  attribute  an  ulterior  motive 
to  the  proposer  of  any  change  in  the  unwritten  but  long- 
accustomed  laws  which  govern  his  habits;  he  lives  in  a 
groove  into  which  by  degrees  abuses  may  have  crept,  and 
some  alteration  may  have  become  imperative. 

When  we  introduced  a  coal  club  for  the  villagers,  with 
the  idea  of  buying  several  trucks  at  lowest  cash  price, 
collecting  their  contributions  week  by  week  during  the 
previous  summer,  when  good  wages  were  being  earned, 
and  delivering  the  coal  gratis  in  my  carts  shortly  before 


64  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


winter,  they  seemed  very  doubtful  as  to  the  advantage  of 
joining.  Some  saw  the  advantage  at  once,  knowing  the 
high  prices  of  single  half-tons  or  hundredweights  delivered 
in  coal-merchants'  carts;  others  would  "  let  us  know  in  a 
day  or  two,"  wanted  time  to  consider  the  matter,  being 
taken  "unawares";  others,  assured  that  nobody  would 
undertake  such  a  troublesome  business  without  an  eye  to 
personal  profit,  but  anxious  not  to  offend  my  daughter, 
who  was  visiting  each  cottage,  replied:  "Oh  yes,  miss, 
if  'tis  to  do  you  any  good  "  !  Eventually,  however,  they 
were  all  satisfied  and  very  grateful,  appreciating  the  fact 
that  the  cartage  was  not  charged  for,  and  that  they  were 
getting  much  better  coal  than  before  at  a  lower  price. 

Village  people,  I  am  afraid,  are  rather  fond  of  horrors; 
the  newspaper  accounts  of  events  which  come  under  that 
description,  such  as  murders,  suicides,  and  sensational  trials, 
afford,  apparently,  much  interest.  A  man  was  working  for 
me  on  some  repairs  close  to  my  door;  as  he  was  a  stranger, 
I  tried,  as  usual,  to  induce  him  to  talk  whenever  I  passed. 
I  had  no  success  and  could  not  get  a  word  out  of  him,  until, 
one  morning,  I  chanced  to  see  a  sensational  headline  in  a 
local  paper  about  a  suicide  in  a  neighbouring  town.  On 
passing  my  workman,  he  immediately  broke  out  in  great 
excitement,  "  Did  you  read  in  the  paper  about  that  bloke 

who  went  to  his  father's  house  at  W ,  sat  down  on  the 

doorstep,  and  cut  his  throat  ?"  The  account  had  evidently 
seized  upon  his  imagination,  and  had  thoroughly  roused 
him  out  of  himself,  but  the  following  day  he  was  as  silent 
as  before. 

Births,  marriages,  and  deaths  are  interesting  topics  in 
the  village,  and  perhaps  with  reason,  for,  after  all,  they  are 
the  most  important  events  in  our  lives,  and  in  the  villages 
most  of  the  cottagers  are  more  or  less  related.  All  the  in- 
habitants were  much  excited  when  a  poor  old  widow,  living 
very  near  my  house,  sitting  on  a  low  circular  stone  parapet 
round  her  well,  lost  her  balance  in  some  way,  fell  in,  and 
was  drowned.  I  was  foreman  of  the  jury  at  the  inquest, 
and  after  hearing  the  evidence,  which  amounted  to  no  more 


LABOURERS  AND  VILLAGERS  65 


than  the  finding  of  the  body  soon  after  the  event,  the  coroner 
expressed  his  opinion  that  it  was  a  case  of  accidental 
death,  with  which  I  at  once  concurred.  With  some  reluct- 
ance, the  other  jurymen  agreed;  they  had,  I  imagine,  as 
usual,  made  up  their  minds  for  a  more  sensational  verdict, 
but  scarcely  liked  to  suggest  it,  and  a  verdict  of  accidental 
death  wr.i  accordingly  returned.  Afterwards  I  heard  that 
the  villagers  were  saying  that  it  was  very  kind  of  me  to 
bring  in  such  an  indulgent  verdict,  but  they  "  knowed 
very  well  it  was  suicide." 

I  was  invited  to  the  wedding  feast  of  my  bailiff's 
daughter,  and  being,  I  suppose,  regarded  as  the  principal 
guest ,  was ,  according  to  custom,  requested  to  carve  the 
excellent  leg  of  mutton  which  formed  the  piece  de  resistance. 
The  parish  clerk,  considerably  over  eighty  at  the  time, 
was  one  of  the  most  sprightly  members  of  the  company; 
he  kept  us  interested  with  historical  recollections  going 
back  to  the  Battle  of  Waterloo,  and  spoke  of  Wellington 
and  Napoleon  almost  as  familiarly  as  we  now  speak 
of  Earl  Haig  and  the  Kaiser.  He  had  a  strong  sense  of 
humour,  and,  after  a  very  hearty  meal,  announced  that 
he  didn't  know  how  it  was,  but  he'd  "  sort  of  lost  his  appe- 
tite," pretending  to  regard  the  fact  as  an  injury,  pre- 
meditated by  the  hospitality  of  our  host  and  hostess. 

The  labourer  dearly  loves  a  grievance,  not  exactly  for  its 
own  sake,  but  because  it  affords  an  interesting  topic  of 
conversation.  One  autumn,  returning  from  a  holiday  in 
the  Isle  of  Wight,  I  found  the  whole  village  agog  with  the 
first  County  Council  election.  A  magistrate  candidate, 
in  the  neighbouring  village  of  Broadway,  was  to  be  opposed 
by  an  Aldington  man.  I  found  a  local  committee  holding 
excited  partisan  meetings  on  behalf  of  the  latter,  active 
canvassing  going  on,  a  villager  appointed  as  secretary 
(always  called  "  seckertary  "  in  these  parts),  and  the  elec- 
tion the  sole  topic  of  conversation.  The  village  people, 
always  delighted  in  the  possession  of  a  common  enemy 
and  a  common  cause,  were  making  the  election  a  villa<ye 
affair,  as  opposed  to  the  village  of  the  other  candidate* 

5 


66  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


popular  feeling  was  running  very  high,  Badsey,  of  course, 
joining  up  with  Aldington  as  strong  allies.  Some  young 
men  had  lately  been  before  the  magistrates  at  Evesham, 
and  fined  for  obstructing  the  footpath,  and  the  magistrate 
candidate  was  selected  as  the  scapegoat  for  the  affront 
to  our  united  villages.  At  the  election  the  Aldington 
man  was  returned,  and  his  supporters  started  with  him 
on  a  triumphal  progress  through  the  constituency.  Of 
course,  they  visited  Broadway,  to  crow  over  the  conquered 
village,  but  the  wind  was  somewhat  taken  out  of  their 
sails  when  the  defeated  candidate  at  once  came  forward, 
shook  hands  with  his  opponent,  and  congratulated  him 
upon  his  success  !  The  return  journey  was  not  so  hilarious ; 
one  of  the  men  of  Broadway,  noticing  a  string  of  carts  in 
the  procession,  conveying  sympathizers  with  the  victor, 
in  addition  to  the  owners  of  the  vehicles — thus  rendering 
the  latter  liable  to  the  carriage  duty  of  15s.  each — and 
strongly  resenting  the  spirit  which  brought  the  victorious 
party  to  Broadway,  sent  a  telegiam  to  the  Superintendent 
of  Police  at  Evesham,  who  met  the  returning  procession 
and  took  down  their  names,  with  the  ultimate  result  of  a 
substantial  haul  in  fines  for  the  excise  ! 

During  the  Boer  War  the  common  foe  was,  of  course, 
"  Old  Kruger  "  (with  a  soft  g),  and  we  hoisted  the  Union 
Jack  in  front  of  the  Manor  whenever  our  side  scored  a 
substantial  success.  The  news  of  Lord  Roberts's  victory 
at  Paardeburg  reached  Badsey  in  the  morning,  after  the 
papers,  and,  returning  by  road  from  my  farm  round,  I 
heard  great  rejoicings  and  cheering  from  the  direction  of 
the  village.  Meeting  a  boy,  I  learned  that  "  Old  Cronje" 
was  defeated  and  a  prisoner,  with  "  'leven  thousand  men  !" 
— a  report  which  proved  to  be  correct  with  the  trifling 
discount  of  9,000  of  the  latter  !  The  same  spirit  of  union 
for  a  common  cause  was  almost  as  evident  at  that  time  as 
in  the  far  more  strenuous  struggle  of  1914-1918,  and  so 
long  as  England  to  herself  remains  but  true,  doubtless 
our  enemies  will  fulfil  the  part  assigned  to  them  by  the 
greatest  of  English  poets. 


LABOURERS  AND  VILLAGERS  67 


A  love  of  the  marvellous  is  a  common  characteristic  of 
country  village  folks,  and  I  have  already  referred  to  such 
beliefs  in  the  supernatural  among  my  men.  We  had  our 
own  "  white  lady  "  on  the  highroad  where  it  turns  off 
to  Aldington,  though  I  never  met  anyone  who  had  seen 
her;  there  were,  too,  signs  and  wonders  before  approach- 
ing deaths,  and  a  thrilling  story  of  a  headless  calf  in  the 
neighbourhood. 

An  old  house  at  Badsej'',  once  a  hospitium  or  sanatorium 
for  sick  monks  from  Evesham  Abbey  in  pre-Reformation 
days,  was  reported  to  be  haunted,  and  people  told  tales  of 
"  the  old  fellows  rattling  about  again  "  of  a  night.  Probably 
these  beliefs  had  been  encouraged  in  former  times  by  the 
monks  themselves,  to  prevent  the  villagers  prying  too 
closely  into  their  occupations;  and  no  doubt  the  scattered 
individuals  of  the  same  body  originated  the  popular  theory 
that  the  Abbey  lands  of  which  they  were  dispossessed 
would  never,  owing  to  a  curse,  pass  by  inheritance  in  the 
direct  line  from  father  to  eldest  son — an  event  that  in  the 
course  of  nature  often  fails,  though  by  no  means  invariably. 

In  recent  years  a  startling  story  has  been  told,  and  even 
appeared  in  a  local  paper,  of  a  ghostly  adventure  near 
the  Aldington  turning.  A  young  lady  (not  a  native), 
riding  her  bicycle  to  Evesham  from  Badsey,  passed,  machine 
and  all,  right  through  an  apparition  which  suddenly 
crossed  her  path,  without  any  resulting  fall. 

In  connection  with  the  monk's  hospitium  I  lately  made 
an  interesting  discovery  as  to  the  origin  of  a  curious  name 
of  one  of  my  fields,  which  had  always  puzzled  me.  The 
field  adjoined  the  hospitium,  and  was  always  known  as 
"  the  Signhurst."  Field-names  are  a  very  interesting 
study,  they  usually  bear  some  significance  to  a  peculiarity 
in  the  field  itself,  or  its  position  with  reference  to  its  sur- 
roundings, and  it  has  always  been  a  hobby  of  mine  to 
trace  their  derivations.  The  word  "  Signhurst "  presented 
no  clue  to  its  origin  except  the  Anglo-Saxon  "  hurst," 
signifying  a  wood,  but  there  was  no  appearance  or  tradi- 
tion of  any  wood  having  ever  occupied  the  spot,  and  the 


68  ^A^  ENGLISH  MANOR 

land  was  so  good,  and  so  well  situated  as  to  aspect,  that  it 
was  unlikely  to  have  been  sueh  a  site,  even  in  Anglo- 
Saxon  days.  I  stumbled  upon  a  passage  in  May's  History 
of  Evesham  whieh  mentioned  the  "  SejTie  House,"  mean- 
ing "  Sane  House,"  the  equivalent  of  the  modern  word 
"  sanatorium,"  and  I  saw  at  once  the  origin  of  the  corrupted 
word  "  Signhurst  " — the  field  near  the  Seyne  House. 

Wages  are,  of  course,  the  crowning  reward  of  the  work- 
ing-man's week;  throughout  the  whole  of  my  time  15s. 
a  week  was  the  recognized  pay  for  six  full  summer  days — 
*'  a  very  little  to  receive,  but  a  good  deal  to  pay  away," 
as  a  neighbour  once  said.  During  harvest,  and  at  piece- 
work, more  money  was  earned,  and  it  always  pleased  me 
that  I  could  pay  much  better  prices  for  piece-work  among 
the  hops  than  for  piece-work  at  wheat-hoeing  or  on  similar 
unremunerative  crops.  The  reason  is  obvious :  the  hoeing 
of  an  acre  of  wheat,  a  crop  which  might  possibly  return 
a  matter  of  £10  per  acre,  takes  no  more  manual  effort  than 
the  hoeing  of  an  acre  of  hops,  where  a  gross  return  of  £70 
or  £80  per  acre  is  not  unusual,  and  is  sometimes  consider- 
ably exceeded. 

As  wages  must  eventually  always  depend  upon  prices 
of  produce  raised  by  the  labour  for  which  such  wages  are 
expended,  when  the  agricultural  labourer  buys  his  bread 
he  is  only  buying  back  his  own  labour  in  a  concrete  form 
plus  the  other  relative  expenses  on  the  farm,  and  the  cost 
of  milling,  baking,  and  distribution,  so  that  when  he  gets 
a  high  price  for  his  labour  he  must  expect  to  pay  a  high 
price  for  his  food;  and  when  the  price  of  food  is  reduced 
the  price  of  his  labour  also  falls.  Here,  again,  the  rudi- 
ments of  economics,  taught  in  the  schools,  would  conduce 
to  his  understanding  the  position,  and  the  eradication  of 
discontent. 

It  is  impossible,  economically  speaking,  to  defend  the 
system  of  equal  wages  to  the  most  capable  and  industrious 
men  on  the  one  hand  and  to  inefficient  slackers  on  the  other; 
and  as  a  graduated  scale  of  payment,  according  to  results, 
is  not  practicable  without  arousing  ill-feeling  and  jealousy, 


LABOURERS  AND  VILLAGERS  6» 

the  farmer's  only  remedy  is  to  get  rid  of  the  slackers. 
Inefficiency  and  slacking  are  often  due  to  a  man's  enfeebled 
mental  and  physical  condition,  owing  to  neglect  in  his 
bringing  up  as  a  child,  or  to  insufficient  or  unwholesome 
food  provided  by  an  improvident  wife  in  his  home. 

I  was  fortunate  in  meeting  with  very  few  of  these  de- 
generates, but  I  remember  one  tall,  delicate-looking  man 
who  seemed  unable  to  apply  either  his  strength  or  his 
attention  to  his  work.  He  was  denounced  by  the  fore- 
man under  whom  he  worked  as  not  only  useless,  but  "  the 
starvenest  wretch  as  ever  I  see,"  intended  to  convey  the 
impression,  and  confirming  my  own  conclusion,  that  cold 
and  hunger  were  really  the  cause  of  his  inability  to  render 
a  fair  day's  work. 

I  remember,  too,  when  some  elderly  women,  with  a 
younger  one,  were  hay-making,  one  of  the  old  ladies, 
dragging  the  big  "  heel-rake  "  behind  the  waggon  in  course 
of  loading — always  rather  a  tough  job — tried  to  induce  the 
younger  woman  to  take  her  place  with,  "  Here,  Sally,  thee 
take  a  turn  at  it;  thee  be  a  better  'ooman  nor  I  be."  My 
bailiff,  overhearing,  at  once  interposed:  "Be  she  a  better 
'ooman  than  thee,  Betsy,  ov  a  Saturday  night  [pay-night]  ?" 

Hard-and-fast  laws  and  fixed  prices  for  agricultural 
labour  will  be  found  very  difficult  to  maintain  as  to  piece- 
work; no  wage  board  can  fix  just  prices,  because  conditions 
are  so  variable.  Of  two  men  cutting  corn  on  separate  plots 
in  the  same  field,  the  one  at  12s.  an  acre  may  really  earn 
more  money  per  diem  than  another  man  at  15s.  an  acre 
on  the  other  side  of  the  field,  owing  to  the  difference  in  the 
weight  of  the  crop  or  its  condition,  it  being,  perhaps,  erect 
in  the  first  case,  and  laid  by  heavy  storms  in  the  second. 

There  is,  too,  a  vast  difference  in  the  value  of  boys' 
work  and  usefulness;  one  may  easily  be  worth  double 
another,  yet  no  difference  is  allowable  by  the  new  law; 
or  one  may  demoralize  another,  so  that  two  are  less  effec- 
tive than  one.  A  good  old  saying  puts  the  matter  very 
plainly;  "One  boy's  a  boy,  two  boys  are  half  a  boy,  and 
three  boys  are  no  boy  at  all !" 


70  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


It  is,  in  fact,  ridiculous  for  townspeople,  lawyers,  and 
manufacturers  to  legislate  for  the  labour  of  the  farm; 
they  do  not  understand  that  indoor  labour  in  the  work- 
shop or  factory,  under  regular  conditions  and  with  un- 
varying materials,  is  totally  different  from  labour  out  of 
doors,  in  constantly  changing  conditions  of  season,  weather, 
and  the  resulting  crops  dealt  with.  An  old  maxim  of  the 
Worcestershire  labourer  who,  without  a  fixed  place,  took 
on  piece-work  at  specially  busy  times,  will  confirm  this: 
"  Go  to  a  good  farmer  for  wheat-hoeing,  and  to  a  bad  one 
for  harvesting."  I  may  explain  that  the  fields  of  the  good 
farmer  are  clean  and  nearly  free  from  weeds,  so  that  hoeing 
is  a  comparatively  light  job;  but  the  same,  or  nearly  the 
same,  price  per  acre  is  paid  by  the  bad  farmer,  v/hose  corn 
is  overrun  with  weeds,  entailing  much  more  time  and  harder 
work.  On  the  other  hand,  the  good  farmer's  wheat  crop 
is  much  heavier  than  that  of  the  bad,  and,  the  prices  for 
cutting  being  again  very  similar,  more  money  per  diem 
can  be  earned  at  harvest  on  the  farm  of  the  latter. 

It  is  a  sound  old  Worcestershire  saying  that  "  the  time 
to  hoe  is  when  there  are  no  weeds  " — apparently  a  paradox, 
but  the  meaning  is  simple:  when  no  weeds  are  to  be  seen 
above  ground  there  are  ahvays  millions  of  tiny  seedlings 
just  below  the  surface  ready  to  increase  and  multiply 
wonderfully  with  a  shower  of  rain  ;  if  attacked  at  the 
seedling  stage,  these  can  be  slaughtered  in  Ijattalions,  with 
far  greater  ease  and  efficacy  than  when  they  become  deep- 
rooted  and  established,  and  dominate  the  crop. 

I  have  heard  of  faimers  to  whom  pay-night  was  a  sore 
trial;  one  such  was  frequently  known  to  mount  his  horse 
and  gallop  away  just  before  his  men  appeared:  how  he 
settled  eventually  I  do  not  know.  Some  farmers  will  pay 
out  of  doors  on  their  rounds,  having  a  rooted  objection  to 
business  of  any  kind  under  a  roof;  and  one  small  farmer, 
I  was  told,  always  passed  the  cash  to  his  men  behind  his 
back  so  that  he  might  not  have  the  agony  of  parting 
actually  before  his  eyes. 

A  labourer  is  supposed  to  come  to  work  in  his  master's 


LABOURERS  AND  VILLAGERS  71 


time  and  go  home  in  his  own,  thus  sharing  the  necessary 
loss,  and,  as  a  rule,  they  are  fairly  punctual;  but  one  de- 
faulter in  this  particular  will  waste  many  moments  of  a 
whole  gang  working  together,  as  it  seems  to  be  etiquette 
not  to  begin  till  they  are  all  present.  I  have  often  heard, 
too,  sarcastic  comparisons  made  between  the  day-man 
and  "  the  any-time-of-day  man." 

The  cottagers  have  their  feuds,  and  the  use  of  joint 
wash-houses  or  baking-ovens  between  two  or  more  ad- 
joining cottages  is  a  frequent  source.  I  have  had  excited 
wives  of  tenants  coming  to  me  at  unseasonable  hours  to 
settle  these  differences,  and  I  found  it  a  very  difficult 
business  to  reconcile  the  disputants.  I  could  only  visit 
the  locus  in  quo  and  arrange  fixed  and  separate  days 
and  regulations;  but  though  the  wisdom  of  Solomon 
may  administer  justice  in  a  dispute,  it  is  impossible  to 
ensure  a  really  peaceful  solution  that  will  endure. 

Sometimes  feuds,  originating  in  such  or  similar  causes, 
were  maintained  for  years  by  neighbours  living  with  only  a 
9-inch  party  wall  between  them,  and  daily  meetings  outside, 
to  the  extent  of  not  even  "  passing  the  time  of  day."  At 
last,  however,  in  a  day  of  distress  to  one,  the  heart  of  the 
unafflicted  other  would  melt,  and  after  an  offer  of  help, 
or  actual  assistance,  kind  relations  would  be  once  more 
established.  Or  a  peace  offering,  in  the  shape  of  a  dish 
of  good  pig-meat,  sent  over  with  a  kind  message,  would 
restore  more  genial  conditions,  and  they  would  return  to 
happy  and  neighboiu'ly  familiarity. 

I  once  employed  an  old  Dorset  labourer,  a  tall,  slim, 
aristocratic  figure,  with  an  elegant,  refined  nose  to  match ;  he 
bore  the  well-known  name  of  an  ancient  and  distinguished 
Dorset  family,  and  I  have  no  doubt  was  well  descended. 
He  was  decidedly  a  canny,  not  to  say  crafty,  man.  I  gave 
him  a  holiday  at  Whitsuntide  to  visit  his  old  home,  but  he 
overran  the  time  agreed  upon  and  returned  some  days  late. 
Before  I  could  begin  the  rebuke  I  proposed  to  administer, 
he  produced  a  charming  photograph  of  a  ruined  abbey 
near  his  old  locality,  and  handed  it  to  me  as  a  present. 


'r2  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

"  I  thought  upon  you,  master,  while  I  was  away,  and 
knowing  as  you  was  fond  of  ancient  things  I've  brought 
you  this  pieturc."  I  was  completely  disarmed,  and  the 
rebuke  had  to  be  postponed  sine  die. 

As  I  was  talking  one  day  to  my  bailiff — one  of  the  men 
who  lived  a  mile  away  standing  near — he  said:  "  Tom,  here, 
is  always  the  first  man  to  arrive  in  the  morning;  I  have 
never  known  him  to  be  late."  I  congratulated  Tom,  and 
asked  what  time  he  went  to  bed :  "  Oh,  about  seven  o'clock  !" 
He  was,  in  fact,  a  lonely  old  bachelor,  and,  being  "  no 
scholard,"  it  saved  lights  and  firing  to  be  early  to  bed. 

This  man,  like  many  villagers,  had  very  vague  ideas  of 
geography.  To  save  the  trouble  of  cooking,  he  lived  largely 
on  American  tinned  beef,  and  got  chaffed  about  it  by  his 
fellow-workers.  "  How  be  you  getting  on  with  the 
'Meriean  biff  ?"  Tom  was  asked.  "  Oh,"  said  he,  "  never 
no  more  'Meriean  biff  for  me."  "How's  that,  Tom?" 
"  Why,  the  other  day  I  found  a  trouser-button  in  it  !" 
The  point  of  this  story  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  Russo- 
Turkish  war  was  proceeding  at  the  time.  Tempora 
mutantur,  we  were  then  encouraging  Turkey  against 
Russia,  though  the  latter  had  declared  war  to  avenge  the 
atrocities  in  Bulgaria  of  which  the  Turks  were  guilty, 
while  in  the  recent  struggle  the  position  was  almost  exactly 
reversed. 

There  was  then  a  violent  militant  feeling  here  in  Britain, 
and  excited  crowds  were  singing: 

"  We  don't  want  to  fight  but,  by  Jingo,  if  we  do, 
We've  got  the  ships,  we've  got  the  men, 
We've  got  the  money  too." 

Hence  the  expression  "  Jingoism,"  which  we  often  hear 
to-day,  though,  perhaps,  the  origin  is  now  almost  for- 
gotten. 

It  is  not  unusual  to  see  villagers,  as  married  couples, 
complete  contrasts  to  each  other  in  appearance  and  char- 
acter— one  fat  and  jolly,  the  other  thin  and  miserable; 
one    happy    and    contented,    the    other    grumbling    and 


LABOURERS  AND  VILLAGERS  73 

morose;  one  open-hearted  and  generous,  the  other  close 
and  parsimonious.  In  matrimony  people  are  said  to 
choose  their  opposites,  and  possibly,  as  time  goes  on,  the 
difference  in  their  appearance  and  dispositions  becomes 
still  more  definitely  developed. 

The  labourer  understands  sarcasm  and  makes  use  of  it 
himself,  but  irony  is  often  lost  upon  him.  Passing  an  old 
man  on  a  pouring  wet  day,  I  greeted  him,  adding,  "  Nice 
morning,  isn't  it  ?"  He  stared,  hesitated,  and  then, 
"  Well,  it  would  be  if  it  wasn't  for  the  rain  !"  I  only 
remember  one  surly  man — not  one  of  my  workers  or 
tenants.  He  was  scraping  a  very  muddy  road,  and  I  re- 
marked, for  something  to  say,  "  Makes  it  look  better, 
doesn't  it  ?"  All  I  got  in  reply  was,  "  I  shouldn't  do  it  if 
it  didn't  !" 

It  is  important,  in  managing  a  mixed  lot  of  farm 
labourers,  to  find  out  each  man's  special  gift,  making 
him  the  responsible  person  when  the  time  or  opportunity 
arrives  for  its  application.  There  are  men,  excellent 
with  horses,  who  have  no  love  of  steam-driven  machinery, 
and  vice  versa ;  and  there  are  men  who  are  capable  at  small 
details,  yet  unable  to  take  comprehensive  views. 

Responsibility  is  the  life-blood  of  efficiency,  and  men  can 
always  be  found  upon  whom  responsibility  will  act  like 
a  charm,  producing  quickened  perception,  interest,  fore- 
sight, economy,  resource,  industry,  and  all  the  charapter- 
istics  that  responsibility  demands.  Put  the  square  peg 
in  the  square  hole,  the  round  peg  in  the  round  hole;  show 
the  man  you  have  confidence  in  him,  teach  him  to  act  on 
his  own  initiative  in  all  the  lesser  matters  that  concern 
his  Job,  coming  only  to  the  master  in  those  larger  con- 
siderations to  which  the  latter  are  subordinate,  and  my 
experience  is  that  your  confidence  will  not  be  betraj'^ed, 
and  that  he  will  save  you  an  immense  amount  of  tiresome 
detail. 

The  most  difficult  man  to  deal  with  is  the  over-confident 
"know-all";  he  is  always  ready  to  oppose  experience — 
often  dearly  bought — with  his  superior  knowledge,  he  can 


74  ^.V  ENGLISH  MANOR 


suggest  a  quicker  or  a  cheaper  way  of  doing  everything, 
and  in  his  last  place  he  "  never  saw "  your  system 
followed.  He  is  the  penny-wise  and  pound-foolish  indi- 
vidual, and  his  methods  are  "  near  enough."  It  has  been 
said  that  at  twenty  a  man  knows  ever5i:hing,  at  forty  he 
is  not  quite  so  sure,  and  at  sixty  he  is  certain  that  he  knows 
nothing  at  all;  but  there  are  exceptions  even  to  this  rule, 
who  continue  all  their  lives  thinking  more  and  more  of 
their  own  opinions,  and  completely  satisfied  with  their 
own  methods.  On  the  other  hand,  the  master  will  always 
find,  among  the  more  experienced,  men  from  whom  much 
is  to  be  learnt;  they  are  generally  diffident  and  not  too 
ready  to  hazard  an  opinion,  but  when  consulted  they  can 
give  very  valuable  help.  I  willingly  acknowledge  my 
indebtedness  to  my  old  hands,  their  well-founded  convic- 
tions that  were  the  fruit  of  long  years  of  practical  experi- 
ence, and  their  readiness  to  impart  them  in  times  of  doubt 
and  difficulty. 

Just  as  bad-tempered  grooms  make  nervous,  bad-tem- 
pered horses;  rough  and  noisy  cattle-men,  fidgety  cows; 
ill-trained  dogs  and  savage  shepherds,  sheep  wild  and  diffi- 
cult to  approach;  so  does  the  bad-tempered,  impatient, 
or  slovenly  master  make  men  with  the  same  bad  qualities, 
when  a  smile  or  a  kind  word  will  bring  out  all  that  is  good 
in  a  man  and  produce  the  best  results  in  his  work. 

I  began  my  farming  with  four  dear  old  women,  working 
on  the  land,  when  wanted  for  light  jobs;  the  youngest  must 
have  been  fifty  at  least.  They  received  the  time-honoured 
wage  of  tenpence  a  day,  and  worked,  or  talked,  about 
eight  hours.  They  loved  to  work  near  the  main  road, 
discussing  the  natural  history  of  the  occupants  of  passing 
carts  or  carriages.  They  knew  something  comic,  tragic,  or 
compromising  about  everybody,  and  expressed  themselves 
with  epigrammatic  force.  A  farmer  occupant  of  a  neigh- 
bouring farm  in  long-past  days,  was  a  favourite  subject  of 
such  recollections.  After  relating  how  "  he  were  a  random 
duke,"  and  recalling  his  habits,  one  old  lady  would  con- 
clude the  recital  with  an  account  of  his  last  days,  adding, 


LABOURERS  AND  VILLAGERS 


as  if  everything  was  thereby  finally  condoned:  "  But 
there,  'e  was  just  as  nice  a  carpse  as  ever  I  see,  and  I  was 
a'most  minded  to  put  his  paddle  [thistle-spud]  beside  him 
in  his  coffin,  for  he  was  always  a-diggin'  and  a-delvin' 
about  with  it." 

One  member  of  this  quartet,  when  ill,  had  a  dish  of 
minced  mutton  sent  her  in  the  hopes  of  tempting  her  appe- 
tite. She  eyed  the  gift  with  disfavour,  and  announced 
with  scorn  that  "  she  preferred  to  chew  her  meat 
herself  !" 

In  due  course  these  old  ladies  retired  from  active  service 
and  younger  women  took  their  places;  women  were  especi- 
ally necessary  in  the  hop-yards  for  the  important  operation 
of  tying  the  selected  bines  to  the  poles  with  rushes  and 
pulling  out  those  which  were  superfluous.  It  was  difficult, 
at  first,  to  accustom  them  to  the  fact  that  the  hop  always 
twines  the  way  of  the  sun,  whilst  the  kidney  bean  takes 
the  opposite  course.  And  there  was  a  problem  which 
greatly  exercised  their  minds:  How  were  they  to  reach 
the  hops  at  the  tops  of  the  poles — 14  feet  from  the  ground 
— when  the  time  came  ?  It  did  not  occur  to  them  that  it 
was  possible  to  cut  the  bine  and  pull  up  the  pole.  They 
soon  became  very  quick  and  expert  at  the  tying,  and  their 
well-worn  wedding-rings,  telling  of  a  busy  life,  would  flash 
brightly  in  the  sunshine  as  they  tenderly  coaxed  the  brittle 
bines  round  the  base  of  the  poles,  securing  them  with  the 
rush  tied  in  a  special  slip-knot,  so  that  it  easily  expanded 
as  the  bine  enlarged. 

Women  are  splendid  at  all  kinds  of  light  farm  work 
whenever  deftness  and  gentle  touch  are  required,  such  as 
hop-tying  and  picking,  or  gathering  small  fruit  like  cur- 
rants, raspberries,  and  strawberries;  but  I  do  not  consider 
them  in  the  least  capable  of  taking  the  place  of  men  in 
outdoor  work  which  demands  muscular  strength  and 
endurance  and  the  ability  to  withstand  severe  heat  or 
bitter  cold  or  wet  ground  under  foot,  through  all  the 
varying  seasons.  Village  women  have,  too,  their  home 
duties  to  attend  to,  and  it  is  most  important  that  their 


76  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


men-folk  should  be  suitably  ltd  and  their  houses  kept 
clean  and  attractive. 

On  the  farm  of  my  son-in-law,  in  Warwickshire,  1  have 
seen  something  of  the  work  of  land  girls,  to  the  number  of 
seventy  or  more,  for  whom  he  provided  a  well-organized 
camp  with  a  competent  lady  Captain;  and  I  know  how 
useful  they  proved  in  the  emergency  caused  by  the  War, 
but  I  still  adhere  to  my  former  conclusion  as  to  the  more 
strenuous  forms  of  farm  labour,  without  in  the  least  de- 
tracting from  my  admiration  for  the  courage  and  patriot- 
ism that  brought  them  forward. 

I  know  one  woman,  however,  who  quite  successfully 
undertakes  very  strenuous  garden  work,  including  digging, 
having  been  inured  to  it  at  a  very  early  age.  If  she 
could  be  spared  from  her  o\mi  work  to  take  the  position  of 
instructress  for  young  girls  determmed  to  make  the  land 
their  chief  employment,  they  would  be  saved  a  vast 
amount  of  unnecessary  fatigue  and  labour  by  learning  the 
art  of  using  spades,  forks,  hoes,  and  rakes  in  the  way  that 
experience  teaches,  relying  more  upon  the  weight  and 
designed  capabilities  of  the  tool  to  do  the  work  than  upon 
their  own  untrained  muscles. 

We  could  always  get  a  supply  of  excellent  maids  for 
house-work  from  among  the  village  families;  they  began 
very  young,  coming  in  for  a  few  hours  daily  to  help  the 
regular  staff,  and,  as  these  left  or  got  married,  they  were 
ready  trained  to  take  their  places.  These  girls  were  quite 
free  from  the  self-importance  of  the  present-day  domestic, 
but  I  remember  one  nice  village  girl  about  whom  we  in- 
quired as  a  likely  maid  who,  it  then  appeared,  was  engaged 
to  marry  a  thriving  small  tradesman.  The  girl's  mother, 
being  over-elated  at  her  daughter's  apparently  brilliant 
prospects  of  independence,  rejected  the  proposal  with  some 
hauteur,  adding  that  her  daughter  "  would  soon  be  keep- 
ing her  own  maid."  I  fear,  however,  that  she  was  dis- 
appointed, as  the  course  of  true  love  did  not  run  smooth. 

We  preferred  a  married  man  as  shepherd,  because,  when 
I  had  only  a  few  cows,  he  combined  his  duties  with  those 


LABOURERS  AND  VILLAGERS  77 


of  cowman ;  and,  bringing  in  the  milk  and  doing  the  churn- 
ing, he  was  much  about  the  back  premises.  On  one  occa- 
sion, however,  I  engaged  a  young  bachelor,  partly  because 
he  replied,  with  a  knowing  smile,  to  a  question  as  to 
whether  he  was  married,  that  he  dared  say  he  could 
be  if  he  liked — which  I  optimistically  took  to  amount  to  an 
announcement  of  his  engagement. 

Time  went  on  and  he  remained  a  single  man,  but  it  was 
observable  that  he  lingered  on  his  milky  way,  and  was 
more  in  evidence  in  the  dairy  than  his  duties  appeared  to 
warrant.  We  concluded  that  he  was  attracted  by  the  cook. 
One  day  my  wife  said  to  another  maid:  "I  can't  think 
why  the  shepherd  spends  so  much  time  in  the  house.  I 
suppose  cook  is  the  attraction  ?"  The  girl  blushed, 
hesitated,  and  looked  down,  but  finally  courageously 
murmured:  "Please,  mum,  it's  me,  mum!"  They  were 
married  in  due  course,  and  we  lost  an  excellent  servant. 

Some  of  the  village  women  and  girls  filled  up  spare 
moments  with  "gloving";  the  large  kid-glove  manufac- 
turers in  Worcester  supplied  the  material,  cut  into  shape, 
and  a  stand,  with  a  kind  of  vice  divided  into  spaces  the 
exact  size  of  each  stitch,  which  held  the  work  firmly  while 
the  stitching  was  done  by  hand;  they  grew  very  quick 
at  this  work,  and  turned  out  the  gloves  with  beautifully 
even  stitches,  but  I  don't  think  they  could  earn  much  at  it 
in  a  day,  and  it  must  have  been  rather  monotonous. 

I  was  interested  to  read  in  Mr.  Warde  Fowler's  Kingham 
Old  and  New  an  account  of  a  peculiar  ceremony — called 
"  Skimmington,"  by  Mr.  Hardy,  in  his  Mayor  of  Caster- 
bridge — which  took  place  in  Kingham  village.  I  have 
known  of  two  similar  cases,  one  in  Surrey  and  one  at  Alding- 
ton, under  the  name  of  "  rough  music."  The  Kingham 
case  was  quite  parallel  with  that  at  Aldington,  being  a 
demonstration  of  popular  disapproval  of  the  conduct  of 
a  woman  resident,  in  matters  arising  out  of  matrimonial 
differences. 

The  outraged  neighbours  collect  near  the  dwelling  of  the 
delinquent,   having  provided  themselves  with  old  trays, 


78  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


pots  and  pans,  and  anything  by  means  of  which  a  horrible 
din  can  be  raised,  and  proceed  to  serenade  the  offender. 
To  be  the  subject  of  such  a  demonstration  is  regarded  as  a 
signal  disgrace  and  a  most  emphatic  mark  of  popular 
odium.  Mr.  Warde  Fowler  tells  me,  on  the  authority 
of  a  German  book  on  marriage,  etc.,  that  "  the  same  sort 
of  din  is  made  at  marriage  in  some  parts  of  Europe  to  drive 
evil  spirits  away  from  the  newly  married  pair."  Possibly, 
therefore,  the  custom  among  our  own  villagers  may  have 
originated  with  the  same  idea,  and  they  may  formerly  have 
taken  the  charitable  view  that  evil  spirits  were  responsible 
for  evil  deeds,  and  that  their  exorcism  was  a  neighbourly 
duty. 

The  holiday  outings  I  gave  my  men  were  a  quid  pro  quo 
for  some  hours  of  overtime  in  the  hay-making,  and  in- 
cluded a  day's  wages,  all  expenses,  and  a  supply  of  food. 
They  generally  went  to  a  large  town  where  an  agricultural 
show  was  in  progress,  but  I  think  the  sea  trips  to  Ilfracombe 
and  Weston-super-Mare  were  the  most  popular,  offering  as 
they  did  much  greater  novelty.  I  have  a  vivid  recollection 
of  the  preparation  of  the  rations  on  the  previous  night: 
a  vast  joint  of  beef  nicely  roasted  and  got  cold  before 
operations  commenced,  my  wufe  and  daughter  making 
the  sandwiches,  while  I  cut  up  the  beef  in  the  kitchen, 
sometimes  in  my  shirt-sleeves  on  a  hot  summer  night; 
mountains  of  loaves  of  bread,  great  slices  of  cake,  and 
pounds  of  cheese,  completed  the  provisions.  The  rations 
were  wrapped  in  separate  papers  and  placed  in  a  hip- 
bath, covered  with  a  cloth,  and  finally  kept  in  a  cool 
building,  whence  each  man  took  his  portion  at  early  dawn. 
For  the  sea  trips  the  train  took  the  party  to  Gloucester 
and  Sharpness,  where  they  embarked  upon  the  steamer. 

Many  and  thrilling  were  the  tales  I  heard  next  day; 
the  sea  was  fairly  smooth  until  they  reached  the  Bristol 
Channel,  but  then,  if  they  met  a  south-west  wind,  the 
vessel  began  to  roll,  and  jovial  faces  looked  thoughtful. 
I  must  not  dwell  upon  the  delightful  horrors  of  the  voj'^age 
on  such  occasions;  they  were  accepted  with  good-humour 


LABOURERS  AND  VILLAGERS  79 


and  regarded  as  part  of  the  show,  but  it  was  curious  that 
not  one  of  the  narrators  himself  suffered  the  fate  that  he  so 
graphically  described  as  the  portion  of  the  others.  Arrived 
at  their  destination,  they  inspected  the  town,  watched  the 
people  on  the  piers  and  parades,  and  the  children  playing 
on  the  sands.  The  latter  created  the  greatest  interest, 
busy  with  their  spades  and  buckets,  or,  as  one  man  ex- 
pressed it,  "  little  jobs  o'  draining  and  summat !" 

At  Christmas  the  village  children  always  came  in  small 
gangs  to  sing,  or  rather  chant,  a  peculiar  and  very  ancient 
seasonable  gi-eeting : 

"  I  wish  you  a  merry  Christmas  and  a  happy  New  Year, 
A  pocket  full  of  money  and  a  cellar  full  of  beer, 
A  good  fat  pig  to  last  you  all  the  year. 
May  God  bless  all  friends  near! 
A  merry,  merry  Christmas  and  a  happy  New  Year." 


CHAPTER  VII 

MACHINERY— VILLAGE  POLITICS— ASPARAGUS 

"  Last  week  came  one  to  the  county  town 
To  preach  our  poor  little  army  down.'* 

Maud. 

Though  machinery  has  lightened  the  labour  of  manual 
workers  to  some  extent,  it  entails  much  more  trouble  upon 
masters  and  foremen,  for  breakages  are  frequent  and  always 
occur  at  the  busiest  time.  What  with  mowers,  reapers, 
thrashing  machines,  chaff-cutters,  root-pulpers,  and  grain- 
mills  run  by  steam-power  or  in  connection  with  horse- 
gears;  hop- washers,  separators,  and  other  delicately 
adjusted  novelties,  the  master  must  of  necessity  be  some- 
thing of  a  mechanic  himself.  I  doubt  if  machinery  is 
really  quite  the  advantage  claimed  by  theorists  and  recon- 
structionists  at  the  present  day.  Even  the  thrashing 
machine,  universally  adopted,  presents  disadvantages 
in  comparison  with  the  ancient  flail,  generally  regarded 
as  obsolete,  though  still  to  be  found  in  occasional  use  by 
the  smallholder  or  allotment  occupier.  In  former  times 
the  farmer  reserved  his  thrashing  by  hand,  for  the  most 
part,  for  winter  work  during  severe  frost  or  wet  weather, 
when  nothing  could  be  done  outside.  The  immense  barns, 
which  still  exist,  were  filled  almost  to  the  roof  at  harvest ; 
thatching  was  not  necessary,  and  every  sheaf  was  absolutely 
safe  from  rain  as  soon  as  it  was  under  cover.  Continuous 
winter  work  was  provided  for  the  men,  and  a  daily  supply 
of  fresh  straw  for  chaff-cutting  and  bedding,  besides  fresh 
chaff  and  rowens  or  cavings  for  stock  throughout  the  winter. 
With  the  thrashing  machine  in  use  for  ricks,  thatching 
is  a  necessity,  and  is  often  difficult  to  arrange  in  the  stress 
of  harvest;  the  machine  and  engine  demand  a  day's  work 

80 


MACHINERY  81 


for  two  teams  of  horses  to  fetch  them,  and  the  cartage  and 
expense  of  much  coal,  now  so  dear.  On  a  small  farm  extra 
hands  have  to  be  engaged,  the  straw  has  to  be  stacked  or 
carried  to  the  barns,  and  the  same  applies  to  the  chaff 
and  rowens.  If  the  weather  is  damp,  straw,  chaff,  and 
rowens  get  stale,  mouldy,  and  unpalatable  to  the  stock, 
a  heavy  charge  is  made  for  the  hire  of  the  machine  and 
the  machine  men,  and  the  latter  require  food  and  drink 
or  payment  instead.  The  machine  breaks  and  bruises 
many  grains  of  corn,  which  are  thereby  damaged  for  seed 
or  malting,  whereas  the  less  urgent  flail  leaves  them  intact. 

The  sound  of  the  thrashing  machine  gives  an  impression 
to  outsiders  of  brisk  and  remunerative  work,  but  it  is 
cheerful  to  the  farmer  only  when  high  prices  are  ruling. 
Far  otherwise  was  it  for  many  years  before  the  War,  when 
corn-growers  heard  only  its  moaning,  despondent  note, 
telling  anything  but  a  flattering  tale,  only  varied  by  an 
occasional  angry  growl,  when  irregular  feeding  choked 
its  satiated  appetite. 

From  the  aesthetic  standpoint  uncouth  and  noisy 
machines,  such  as  mowers  and  reapers,  cannot  be  compared 
to  a  lusty  team  of  men  with  scythes,  in  their  white  shirts, 
backed  by  the  flowering  meadows;  or  a  sunny  field  of 
busy  harvesters  facing  a  golden  wall  of  corn,  and  leaving 
behind  them  the  fresh-shorn  stubble  dotted  with  sheaves 
and  nicely  balanced  shocks.  The  rattle  of  the  machines, 
too,  is  discordant  and  out  of  harmony  with  the  peaceful 
countryside. 

It  is  related  of  Ruskin  that,  hearing  the  insistent  rattle 
of  a  mowing  machine  in  a  meadow  adjoining  his  home  by 
the  beautiful  Coniston  Water,  and  his  sense  of  the  fitting 
being  outraged,  he  interviewed  the  owner,  and,  by  an  offer 
to  pay  the  trifling  difference  between  machine  and  hand 
labour,  induced  him  to  discontinue  the  annoyance. 

As  to  the  relative  cost  of  machine  and  hand  wheat - 
cutting,  quite  early  in  my  farming  I  obtained  the  opinion 
of  a  distinguished  farmer,'  then  well  known  on  the  Council 
of  the  Royal  Agricultural  Society,  Mr.  Charles  Randell,  of 

6 


82  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


Chadbury,  near  Evesham,  on  the  subject:  "If  you  can 
get  a  good  crop,"  he  said,  "  cut,  tied,  and  stooked  by  hand 
at  anything  hkc  15s.  an  acre,  don't  use  a  machine.  If  the 
corn  is  ripe  it  knocks  out  and  wastes  quite  a  bushel  of 
wheat  per  acre  "  (worth  at  that  time  about  5s.,  now  nearer 
9s.  or  10s.).  "  I  always  bring  out  my  machines,  and  have 
them  oiled  and  made  ready,  but  I  don't  want  to  use  them." 

In  a  wet  harvest  the  machine  is  unworkable  on  sticky 
clay  soil,  and  after  a  wet  summer,  when  the  corn  is  badly 
laid  and  twisted,  it  makes  very  poor  work,  cutting  off  the 
ears  and  scattering  them,  and  leaving  a  quantity  of  uncut 
and  untidy  straw  on  the  ground. 

In  my  own  case  my  equanimity  was  never  disturbed  by 
a  reaping  machine,  with  its  unwieldy  tossing  arms,  on  my 
land,  for  I  had  to  find  employment  for  my  full  staff  of 
regular  hands,  specially  required  for  the  much  more  im- 
portant hop-picking  a  little  later,  and  it  pleased  me  that 
they  should  get  the  extra  pay  for  harvest  work  as  well. 

The  cream  separator,  I  admit,  is  a  wonderful  invention, 
and  its  hum  is  not  unmusical;  it  provides  fresh  skim  milk 
for  the  calves  and  pigs  morning  and  night,  which,  as  well 
as  the  cream,  is  thoroughly  cleansed  in  the  process.  The 
aeration  of  the  skim  milk  leaves  it  a  most  wholesome  and 
nourishing  article  of  diet  for  the  villagers  if  they  could 
be  made  to  understand  its  value,  and  that  the  removal  of 
the  cream  takes  away  only  the  fat  (heating  material), 
leaving  the  bone  and  muscle  making  constituents  in  the 
milk.  I  could  never  induce  my  village  folk  to  accept  this 
rudimentary  proposition;  they  fancied  that  all  the  good- 
ness was  gone  with  the  cream,  and  though  I  offered  the 
skim  milk  at  the  nominal  price  of  one  halfpenny  a  quart, 
very  few  would  send  their  children  to  fetch  it,  though  they 
mostly  lived  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  dairy. 

The  hay  or  straw  elevator  is  one  of  the  greatest  helps, 
saving  much  heavy  overhand  labour  in  rick-building. 
An  old  labourer,  pointing  to  one,  with  great  appreciation, 
on  a  farm  I  was  visiting,  said:  "  That's  a  machine  as  will 
be  always  kept  in  the  dry  and  took  care  on."     He  spoke 


MACHINERY  88 


from  experience  of  the  arduous  work  of  unloading  and  the 
passing  of  heavy  weights,  sometimes  from  the  bed  of  the 
waggon  to  the  summit  of  the  rick;  for,  as  my  bailiff  often 
said,  "  Nobody  knows  so  well  where  the  shoe  pinches  as 
the  man  who  has  to  wear  it." 

Steam  has  not  done  all  that  was  expected  of  it  as  an 
agricultural  slave.  The  steam  plough  is  not  a  success 
on  heavy  land  where  the  ridges  are  high  and  irregular  in 
width,  and  even  the  steam  cultivator  has  to  be  used  with 
caution  lest  the, soil  should  be  carried  from  the  ridges  to 
the  furrows,  and  the  "  squitch  "  (couch)  buried  to  a  depth 
at  which  it  is  difficult  to  eradicate.  The  great  convenience 
of  steam  cultivation  is  that  full  advantage  can  be  taken 
of  a  short  spell  of  hot,  dry  weather  for  fallowing  operations, 
and  the  soil  is  left  so  hollow  that  it  soon  bakes  and  kills  the 
weeds.  I  fully  sympathize  with  Tennyson's,  Northern 
Farmer,  Old  Style : 

"  But  summon  'ull  come  ater  meii  mayhap  wi'  'is  kittle  o'  steam 
Huzzin'  an'  maazin'  the  blessed  fealds  Avi'  the  Devil's  oiin  teiim"; 

for,  except  on  a  large  farm  with  immense  fields,  the 
ponderous  and  ungainlj'^  steam  tackle  gives  one  a  sensation 
of  intrusion.  Such  a  field  can  be  found  on  a  farm  between 
Evesham  and  Alcester;  it  contains  300  acres.  The  occu- 
pier, speaking  of  it,  mentioned  that  it  was  all  wheat  that 
year  except  one  corner.  To  a  question  as  to  the  size  of  the 
corner,  it  transpired  that  it  was  50  acres,  and  growing  peas. 
For  comparison  there  is  a  story  of  a  Devonshire  farmer 
who  said  he  had  been  very  busy  one  winter  making  four 
fields  into  one.  "  Then  you've  got  a  big  field,"  said  a 
friend.     "  Yes,"  was  the  reply;  "  it's  just  four  acres." 

When  the  farm  labourer  was  enfranchised  in  1885  he 
became  an  important  member  of  the  electorate.  Candi- 
dates and  canvassers  alike  had  a  much  more  strenuous 
time  than  ever  before,  the  former  were  constrained  to  hold 
meetings  in  every  village,  and  the  latter  were  obliged  to 
visit  nearly  every  cottage.  The  late  Sir  Richard  Temple 
after  a  distinguished  career  in  India,  became  Conservative 


84  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


candidate  for  our  division.  The  doctrine  of  "  three  acres 
and  a  cow,"  in  opposition  to  every  tenet  of  rural  economy, 
as  well  as  the  division  of  the  land  among  the  labourers, 'were 
at  the  time  paraded  by  theorists  and  paid  agitators,  as  bribes 
to  purchase  the  votes  of  the  new  electors,  and  as  ensuring 
the  salvation  of  the  rural  population,  which  was  then 
beginning  to  suffer  from  unemployment,  resulting  from 
the  destruction  of  corn-growing  by  foreign  competition. 

The  more  credulous  of  the  labourers  were  excited  and 
unsettled  by  the  alluring  prospect  of  independence  thus 
held  out  to  them,  and  it  was  reported  that  some  went 
so  far  as  to  survey  the  fields  around  their  villages  and 
select  the  plots  they  proposed  to  cultivate,  and  that  others 
took  baskets  to  the  poll  in  which  to  bring  home  the  all- 
powerful  magic  of  the  mysterious  vote  !  Among  the  new 
voters  in  a  neighbouring  village,  a  man  of  very  decided 
views  found  it  puzzling  to  decide  by  which  candidate 
they  were  most  nearly  represented,  and,  determined  to 
make  no  mistake  at  the  poll,  he  consulted  a  fellow-labourer, 
inquiring:  "  Which  way  be  the  big  uns  a-going,  because  I 
be  agin  they  ?" 

The  Squire  of  an  adjoining  parish  met  an  old  villager 
with  whom  he  had  always  been  on  good  terms ;  after  mutual 
greetings,  the  man  sympathized:  "I  be  sorry  for  you. 
Squire."  "  Why  ?"  was  the  rejoinder.  "  Yes,  I  be  regular 
sorry  for  you,  Squire,  that  I  be."  "  What's  the  matter  ?" 
asked  the  Squire.  "  Ay  !  about  this  here  land;  "tis  to  be 
divided  amongst  we  working  men."  "  Indeed,"  said  the 
Squire;  "but  look  here,  after  a  bit,  some  of  you  won't 
want  to  cultivate  it  any  longer,  and  some,  with  improvi- 
dent habits,  will  sell  their  plots  to  others,  so  that  soon  it 
will  be  all  back  again  into  the  hands  of  a  few;  what  will  you 
do  then  ?"  The  man  looked  puzzled,  scratched  his  head, 
and  cogitated  deeply,  until  a  simple  solution  presented 
itself:  "  Then,  Squire,"  said  he,  "  we  shall  divide  again  !" 

Sir  Richard  Temple  was  undoubtedly  an  able  man,  but 
he  was  a  complete  stranger  to  the  local  conditions  of  the 
constituency.     The  villagers  of  Badsey  especially,  as  well 


VILLAGE  POLITICS  85 

as  of  other  adjoining  parishes,  were  just  beginning  to 
retrieve  their  position,  threatened  by  the  collapse  of  corn- 
growing  and  consequent  unemployment,  by  the  adoption 
of  market-gardening  and  fruit-growing.  The  land,  run 
down  and  full  of  weeds  and  rubbish,  had  been  cut  up  into 
allotments  and  offered  to  them  as  tenants,  their  only  choice 
lying  between  years  of  hard  work  in  redeeming  its  condi- 
tion or  emigi-ation.  Many  young  men  chose  the  latter, 
and  did  well  in  the  States  of  America;  but  where  there 
was  a  wife  and  young  children  that  course  was  scarcely 
possible,  and  the  man  became  an  allotment  tenant. 
Passing  one  of  these  on  a  plot  full  of  "  squitch,"  which 
he  was  laboriously  breaking  up  with  a  fork  to  expose  it  in 
big  clods  to  a  baking  sun,  I  asked  if  he  had  taken  it. 
"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  don't  know  whether  I've  taken  it  or 
it's  taken  me  T' 

These  men,  by  unceasing  labour  and  self-denial,  were 
just  beginning  to  turn  the  corner;  they  had  cleaned  the 
land,  ameliorated  its  mechanical  condition  by  application 
of  soot  and  by  deep  digging  with  their  beloved  forks,  and, 
having  discovered  how  wonderfully  asparagus  flourished 
on  this  deep,  rich  soil,  had  planted  large  areas,  as  well  as 
plum-trees  and  other  market-garden  crops,  and  the  well- 
merited  return  was  coming  in  increasingly  year  by  year. 

Sir  Richard  Temple  did  not  understand  the  difference 
between  the  small  holder,  growing  corn  and  ordinary  crops 
in  less  favoured  parts  of  the  country,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  market-gardeners  in  the  Vale  of  Evesham,  with  its 
early  climate,  splendid  soil,  and  railway  connection  with 
huge  artisan  populations,  delivering  the  produce  with 
punctuality  and  despatch,  on  the  other.  He  considered 
that  small  holders  could  not  make  an  economic  success 
where  the  farmers  had  failed,  and  had  made  his  views 
well  known  in  the  constituency,  but  he  did  not  distinguish 
between  the  small  holder  and  the  market-gardener. 

The  men  of  Badsey  felt  aggrieved,  they  knew  better,  and 
at  a  meeting  he  held  in  the  village  they  gave  him  a  rather 
noisy  hearing,  with  interruptions  such  as,  "  Keep  off  them 


86  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


steel  farks,"  "  Mind  them  steel  farks,  Sir  Richard,"  and 
so  on. 

Sir  Richard  came  to  ask  for  my  support  and  assistance 
in  our  village,  and,  as  I  was  not  at  home,  my  wife  enter- 
tained him  in  my  absence,  with  tea  and  wedding-cake. 
She  innocently  asked  if  he  had  come  to  canvass  me;  her 
straightforward  query  surprised  him,  but,  after  a  moment's 
hesitation,  he  replied  cautiously:  "Well,  something  of 
that  sort." 

He  was  eventually  returned,  and  the  men  of  Badsey 
continued  to  flourish  on  asparagus-growing  in  spite  of  his 
warnings;  new  houses  sprang  up  in  every  direction,  and 
available  labour  grew  scarcer  and  scarcer.  Those  splendid 
asparagus  ''  sticks  "  or  "  buds,"  as  they  are  called,  tied 
with  osier  or  withy  twigs,  which  may  be  seen  in  Covent 
Garden  Market  and  the  large  fruiterers'  shops  in  Regent 
Street,  are  grown  in  and  around  the  parishes  of  Badsey 
and  Aldington.  They  command  high  prices,  up  to  15s. 
and  20s.  a  hundred  for  special  stuff,  and  this  year  (1919) 
I  see  that  £21  was  realized  for  the  champion  hundred  at 
the  Badsey  Asparagus  Show.  That,  of  course,  must  be 
regarded  as  quite  exceptional,  and  possibly  there  were 
special  considerations  which  made  it  worth  the  money  to 
the  purchaser. 

Later  came  difficulties;  after  successive  dry  summers 
the  asparagus  was  attacked  by  a  fungoid  complaint, 
called  by  the  growers  "  rust."  Instead  of  growing  vigor- 
ously after  the  crop  had  been  gathered — which  is  the  time 
when  the  buds  for  next  year's  crop  are  developing  on  the 
crowns  of  the  plants — and  finally  dying  off  naturally  in 
beautiful  feathery  plumes  of  green  and  gold,  it  presented 
a  dingy  and  rusty  appearance,  eventually  turning  Jt>lack. 
Asparagus  cannot  stand  long-continued  summer  and  autumn 
drought;  it  likes  plenty  of  moisture,  in  free  circulation 
but  not  stagnant.  The  crops  that  followed  the  appearance 
I  have  described  were  very  deficient,  proving  that  the  grow- 
ing season  of  one  year's  foliage  is  the  time  when  next  year's 
crop  is  decided. 


ASPARAGUS  87 


The  growth  of  asparagus  is  still  a  very  important  part 
of  the  market-gardener's  business  in  the  parishes  referred 
to,  but  it  does  not  continue  to  produce  the  best  results 
indefinitely  and  continuously  on  the  same  land,  and  the 
growers  have  been  obliged  to  extend  their  acreages  and 
take  fresh  plots.  I  have  little  doubt  that  with  the  scientific 
application  of  artificial  fertilizers  the  yield  would  continue 
satisfactory  for  a  much  longer  period.  Plant  disease  of 
any  kind  is  nearly  always  due  to  starvation  for  want  of  the 
chemical  constituents  upon  which  the  crop  feeds,  though 
sometimes  caused  by  unhealthy  sap,  the  result  of  late 
spring  frosts  or  unsuitable  weather. 

The  asparagus-growers  relied  too  much  upon  soot  as  a 
fertilizer;  it  has  a  marvellous  effect  upon  the  mechanical 
condition  of  heavy  land;  its  particles  intervene  between 
the  particles  of  the  almost  impalpable  powder  of  which  clay 
is  composed,  and  the  soil  approximates  to  a  well-tilled 
garden  plot  after  a  few  applications  and  careful  incorpora- 
tion, and  in  the  local  phraseology,  it  becomes  "  all  of  a 
myrtle."  But  as  plant  food  soot  contains  nitrogen  only, 
a  great  plant  stimulant,  which  quickly  exhausts  the  soil 
of  the  other  necessary  constituents.  If  the  growers  would 
make  use  of  basic  slag,  superphosphate,  or  bone  dust 
to  replace  the  phosphate  of  lime  removed  by  the  crop,  and 
of  potash  in  one  of  its  available  forms,  they  would  soon 
experience  a  great  improvement  in  the  power  of  their 
asparagus  to  resist  disease  and  deterioration. 

I  am  aware  that  some  of  the  smaller  growers  regard 
all  kinds  of  artificial  fertilizers  with  suspicion,  but  they 
may  be  interested,  should  they  ever  read  these  pages,  in  the 
following  story.  When  Peruvian  guano  was  first  intro- 
duced into  this  country,  the  farmers  could  not  be  per- 
suaded that  it  merited  any  reliance  as  a  manure.  The 
importers,  in  despair,  caused  some  of  the  despised  stuff  to 
be  sown  in  the  form  of  huge  letters  spelling  the  word 
"  FOOLS  "  upon  a  bare  hillside,  visible  from  a  great  dis- 
tance. The  following  spring,  with  the  beginning  of  growth, 
and  throughout  the  summer,  the  word  stared  the  farmers 


88  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


in  the  face  whenever  they  chanced  to  look  that  way,  in 
dark  green  outstanding  characters  upon  the  yellow  back- 
ground; after  this  practical  demonstration  there  was  no 
difficulty  in  finding  purchasers. 

Sir  Richard  Temple  was  opposed  by  Mr.  Arthur  Chamber- 
lain, one  at  least  of  whose  canvassers  was  not  above 
stretching  a  point  to  obtain  the  votes  of  the  labourers. 
My  men  told  me  that  they  had  been  promised  roast  beef 
and  plum  pudding  every  day  of  their  lives  should  the 
Liberal  party  be  returned.  These  tactics  were  again 
resorted  to  in  the  election  of  1906,  when  walls  were  pla- 
carded with  pictures  of  the  Chinese  employed  in  the  gold- 
mines of  the  Transvaal,  driven  in  chains  by  cruel  overseers, 
presumably  representing  the  Conservative  Government 
which  had  sanctioned  their  emploj'^ment.  I  know  from 
what  I  heard  in  my  new  home,  for  I  Ws  no  longer  at  Alding- 
ton, that  this  misrepresentation  decided  the  votes  of  many 
of  the  more  ignorant  voters. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MY  THREE  VICARS— CHURCH  RESTORATION— CHURCH- 
WARDEN   EXPERIENCES  —  CLERICAL    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

"  Where  many  a  generation's  prayer, 
Hath  perfumed  and  hath  blessed  the  air." 

Gladstone. 

I  SAW  a  good  deal  of  my  three  successive  Vicars,  for  I  was 
Vicar's  churchwarden  for  a  period  of  nearly  twenty  years, 
and  was  treasurer  of  the  fund  for  the  restoration  and 
enlargement  of  Badsey  Church.  My  first  Vicar  had  held 
the  living  for  over  thirty  years  when  we  decided  upon  this 
important  undertaking;  and  not  wishing  to  be  burdened 
with  the  correspondence  which  the  work  would  entail,  he 
invited  me  to  act  for  him.  I  was  pleased,  because  I  have 
always  been  interested  in  the  architecture  of  old  buildings, 
especially  churches,  and  readily  undertook  the  post.  I  had 
the  constant  and  intimate  co-operation  of  my  co-warden, 
Mr.  Julius  Sladden,  of  Badsey,  and  I  may  say  that  no 
two  people  ever  worked  together  with  greater  harmony. 

The  restoration  had  been  debated  for  many  years;  the 
ancient  church  was  sadly  dilapidated,  and  disfigured  by  an 
ugly  gallery  at  the  west  end  of  the  nave,  which  obscured 
the  finest  arch  in  the  building,  leading  into  the  tower; 
and  the  incident  which  brought  the  matter  within  the  range 
of  possibility  was  romantic.  The  Vicar  succeeded  quite 
imexpectedly  to  a  large  inheritance;  the  news  reached  him 
and  his  wife,  who  was  away  from  home  at  the  time,  simul- 
taneously. The  letters  they  wrote  to  each  other  on  their 
good  fortune  crossed  in  the  post,  and  characteristically 
each  wrote  "  Badsey  Church  must  now  be  restored." 
Soon  afterwards  the  Vicar  came  to  my  house  and,  sitting 

89 


90  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

down  at  my  table,  wrote  me  a  cheque  for  £500  to  start  the 
fund. 

On  the  advice  of  the  patrons  of  the  Hving — the  Dean  and 
Chapter  of  Christ  Church,  Oxford — we  invited  Mr.  Thomas 
Graham  Jackson,  now  Sir  Thomas  Graham  Jackson,  R.A., 
to  undertake  the  duties  of  architect.  His  work  was  well 
known  at  Oxford  at  the  time,  as  the  beautiful  New  Schools 
had  just  been  completed  from  his  designs;  we  were  also 
most  fortunate  in  obtaining  the  services  of  Mr.  Thomas 
Collins,  of  Tewkesbury,  as  builder.  Mr.  Collins  was  devoted 
to  church  architecture,  and  the  financial  consideration  of 
such  work  was  to  him  quite  secondary  to  the  pleasure  he 
experienced  as  a  connoisseur  in  restoring  to  the  dignity 
and  beauty  of  the  past  any  ecclesiastical  building  of  dis- 
tinguished interest.  The  first  estimate  v»'as,  I  think, 
£1,500,  exclusive  of  architect's  fees,  but  when  the  work  was 
completed  we  had  expended  in  all  a  sum  of  over  £2,130. 
We  did  not  finally  clear  off  the  debt  until  1891,  nine  years 
after  the  reopening  of  the  church,  and  since  then  a  con- 
siderable further  sum  has  been  expended  in  rehanging  the 
old  bells  and  adding  two  new  ones  to  make  up  the  full  peal  of 
eight. 

It  was  delightful  to  experience  the  willingness  of  every- 
body to  help;  subscriptions,  large  and  small,  came  in 
readily  at  the  very  outset,  and  this  part  of  the  work  never 
became  arduous  until  the  last  few  hundreds  had  to  be  raised. 
Most  of  us  experienced  the  truth  of  the  proverb  Bis  dot  qui 
cito  dal.  but  iri  a  different  sense  from  that  which  usually  com- 
mends it,  for  many  who  gave  quickly  not  only  literally 
gave  twice,  but  three  times  or  more.  Bazaars,  concerts, 
and  entertainments  of  all  kinds  were  undertaken  by  the 
parishioners,  a  sum  of  £376  being  raised  by  these  means. 
Among  them  a  bazaar  at  Badsey  realized  £130;  another, 
later,  at  Aldington  in  one  of  my  old  barns,  £80;  and  two 
concerts — afternoon  and  evening — at  Malvern,  organized 
by  my  wife  and  her  sister,  Miss  Poulton,  £100. 

The  Vicar  received  a  notable  letter  from  the  late  Lord 
Salisbury,  the  Premier;  they  had  been  at  Eton  and  Christ 


CHURCH  RESTORATION  91 


Church  together,  and  Lord  Salisbury  was  godfather  to  the 
Vicar's  eldest  son.  The  Vicar  had  written  of  the  fortune 
he  had  inherited,  and  spoke  of  some  rooks  as  having 
brought  the  luck  by  building,  for  the  first  time,  in  an  elm- 
tree  in  the  vicarage  grounds.  Lord  Salisbury,  in  sending  a 
donation  of  £25  to  the  restoration  fund,  added:  "  I  see  a 
great  many  rooks  building  near  my  house  "  (Hatfield), 
"  but  the  luck  has  not  come  to  me  yet."  The  Vicar's 
comment  to  me  was:  "  If  the  luck  has  not  yet  come  to 
Lord  Salisbury,  I  don't  see  how  anyone  can  hope  for  it !" 

The  Malvern  concert  was  a  strenuous  undertaking; 
Badsey  being  a  long  way  from  Malvern,  it  was  necessary  to 
interest  the  inhabitants  and  to  some  extent  to  plead  in 
forma  pauperis,  for  we  were  really  a  poor  parish  without 
any  large  resident  landowners.  The  first  thing  was  to 
get  a  good  list  of  influential  local  patrons ;  and  as  soon  as 
Lad}^  Emily  Foley  consented,  the  promoters  felt  that  the 
work  was  half  done.  Lady  Emily  Foley  was  supreme  at 
Malvern,  a  very  distinguished  old  lady  and  most  popular, 
but  perhaps  a  little  alarming. 

On  the  day  of  the  two  concerts  I  was  detailed  with  a  troop 
of  young  men,  relatives  of  the  patrons,  to  conduct  the 
people  to  their  seats,  and  an  elaborate  plan  of  the  large 
Assembly  Room  was  given  me,  with  minute  particulars 
of  the  lettered  rows  and  numbered  seats,  presenting  the 
appearance,  somewhat,  of  a  labyrinth.  I  was  studying  it 
at  the  doors,  and  arranging  with  the  young  stewards  as  to 
their  individual  functions,  when  I  heard  an  alarmed 
exclamation  from  one  of  them:  "  Look  out  !  here  comes 
Lady  Emily  Foley  !"  In  an  instant  the  whole  crowd  took 
to  their  heels  and  disappeared  down  the  corridor.  With 
some  little  difficulty  I  succeeded  in  finding  the  seats  of 
Lady  Emily  Foley's  party,  but  I  could  see  that  she  re- 
garded me  as  a  rather  feeble  cicerone. 

She  was,  however,  exceedingly  gracious  after  my  wife's 
first  solo,  which  pleased  her  so  much  that  we  had  to  make 
an  exception  in  this  case,  and  allow  an  encore  by  her 
special  request,  though  it  had  been  arranged,  owing  to  the 


92  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

length  of  the  programme,  that  no  encores  were  to  be  given. 
Lady  Ahvyne  Compton,  wife  of  the  Dean  of  Worcester, 
very  kindly  assisted  as  a  performer,  my  wife  having  fre- 
quently sung  at  charity  concerts  and  entertainments  for 
her  in  Worcester  and  the  neighbourhood,  among  them  a 
recital  by  Mr.  Brandram  of  A  Midsummer-Night'' s  Dream, 
when  she  undertook  the  soprano  solos  occurring  in  the 
play,  at  the  Worcester  Guildhall.  Lady  Alw>ne  Compton 
was  very  musical,  and  rehearsals  were  held  in  the  stone- 
vaulted  crypt  beneath  the  Deanery,  a  place  of  splendid 
acoustic  properties,  which  intensified  the  sound  without 
coarsening  it,  and  brought  the  voice  back  to  the  singer  in 
a  way  unknown  on  the  usual  platform,  decorated  with 
screens,  curtains,  and  flags,  and  obstructed  by  floral  im- 
pedimenta. 

Among  the  performers  at  the  Malvern  concerts  some  pro- 
fessionals had  been  engaged  from  London,  including  Miss 
Margaret  Wild,  a  well-knowii  pianist.  I  had  given  my 
men  a  holiday  for  the  occasion,  and  was  anxious  to  hear 
their  opinion  of  the  performances.  They  considered  the 
music  rather  too  high  class  for  them,  but  they  thoroughly 
appreciated  the  nimble  fingers  of  Miss  Margaret  Wild; 
one  of  them  adding  enthusiastically:  "My  word,  her  did 
make  'im  (the  piano)  rottle  !"  Our  old  parish  clerk  too, 
at  the  time  over  eighty  years  of  age,  who  walked  three 
miles  to  Evesham  Station  in  the  morning,  ascended  the 
Worcestershire  Beacon — nearly  1,500  feet — and  finally 
walked  back  from  Evesham  to  Badsey  at  night,  was  much 
struck  by  the  recitations  of  Miss  Isabel  Bateman  at  the 
concert.  The  dear  old  man  was  somewhat  deaf,  and  told 
me  that,  sitting  towards  the  back  of  the  room,  "  I  couldn't 
hear  nothing,  but  I  could  see  as  the  gcsters  [gestures]  was 
all  right." 

This  old  clerk  was  prominently  devout  in  the  church 
responses,  and  had  some  original  pronunciations  of  un- 
usual words;  in  the  Niccne  Creed  he  generally  followed 
a  few  bars,  so  to  speak,  behind  the  Vicar,  but  one  never 
failed  to  catch  the  words  "  apost'lick  church  "  towards  the 


CHURCHWARDEN  EXPERIENCES  93 

end.  He  was  very  scornful  of  ghosts,  and  told  me  that  he 
had  been  about  the  churchyard  very  often  at  night  for 
fifty  years  without  seeing  anything  like  an  apparition. 
But  the  whole  village  was  alarmed,  including  the  clerk, 
one  Sunday  when,  about  midnight,  the  tenor  bell  was  heard 
solemnly  tolling.  The  clerk,  with  some  supporters  and  a 
lantern,  unlocked  the  door,  and  found  the  village  idiot — 
silly  C. — in  the  tower  ringing  the  bell.  It  appeared  that, 
after  service,  the  clerk  had  extinguished  the  lights  and 
locked  up  for  the  night  about  eight  o'clock.  C,  who  had 
gone  to  sleep  in  the  gallery  with  his  head  upon  his  arms 
before  him  on  the  desk,  slumbered  on  until  he  woke  in 
alarm  some  four  hours  later,  to  find  himself  alone  and  the 
church  in  total  darkness,  but  he  was  intelligent  enough 
to  remember  the  bell  and  get  his  release. 

C.  had  a  hand-to-hand  fight  in  the  church  tower  with 
Aldington's  special  imbecile.  After  service  the  clerk 
invited  me  to  the  scene  of  the  battle,  pointing  out  some 
crimson  traces  on  the  stone  pavement.  I  called  upon  our 
imbecile's  parents  on  my  way  home,  and  the  old  father  was 
greatly  shocked.  "Here  he  be,  sir,"  he  said;  "I  hope 
you'll  give  him  a  jolly  good  hiding."  I  told  him  I  could 
hardly  undertake  the  role  of  executioner  on  a  Sunday, 
in  cold  blood,  and  contented  myself  with  a  severe  repri- 
mand. 

I  was  handing  the  collecting-bag  one  morning  after 
service,  and  finding  it  did  not  return  from  the  end  of  the 
row  of  chairs  as  quickly  as  usual,  I  discovered  this  same 
individual  with  his  hand  in  the  bag.  I  signed  to  him  im- 
patiently to  pass  it  back.  After  service  he  came  to  the 
vestry  and  said  that  he  had  contributed  a  florin  in  mistake 
for  a  penny,  and  was  trying  to  retrieve  it.  I  could  generally 
estimate  pretty  accurately  the  amount  of  the  collection, 
as  I  handed  the  bag,  knowing  the  extent  of  each  pei'son's 
usual  gift,  and  sure  enough,  there  was  an  extra  florin  among 
the  coins,  with  which  I  sent  him  away  happy. 

The  parish  must  have  been  an  uncivilized  place  in  former 
times;  there  was  an  accusing  record  beneath  the  west 


94  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


window  of  the  tower,  in  the  shape  of  a  blocked  up 
entrance.  I  was  told  that  the  ringers,  not  wishing  to  enter 
or  leave  the  tower  through  the  church  door  during  service, 
and  also  to  facilitate  the  smuggling  in  of  unlimited  cider 
had,  after  strenuous  efforts,  cut  an  opening  through 
the  ancient  wall  and  base  some  feet  in  thickness,  and  that 
the  achievement  was  announced  to  the  village  by  up- 
roarious cheering  when  at  last  they  succeeded.  A  door 
was  afterwards  fitted  to  the  aperture,  but  the  entrance  was 
abolished  later  by  a  more  reverent  Vicar. 

The  belfry  was  decorated  with  various  bones  of  legs  of 
mutton  and  of  joints  of  beef,  hung  up  to  commemorate 
notable  weddings  of  prominent  parishioners — perhaps, 
too,  as  a  hint  to  future  aspirants  to  the  state  of  matrimony 
— when  the  ringers  had  enjoyed  a  substantial  meal  and 
gallons  of  cider  at  the  expense  of  the  bridegroom.  There 
seems  to  have  been  a  traditional  connection  between  church 
bell-ringing  and  thirst,  for  Gilbert  White  relates  that  when 
the  bells  of  Selborne  Church  were  recast  and  a  new  one 
presented  in  1735,  "  The  day  of  the  arrival  of  this  tuneable 
peal  was  observed  as  an  high  festival  by  the  village,  and 
rendered  more  joyous  by  an  order  from  the  donor  that 
the  treble  bell  should  be  fixed  bottom  upward  in  the 
ground  and  filled  with  punch,  of  which  all  present  were 
permitted  to  partake." 

The  Vicar  of  Badsey  told  me  that  at  the  neighbouring 
church  of  Wiekhamford,  then  also  in  his  jurisdiction,  that 
when  he  first  came,  in  the  early  fifties,  it  was  customary, 
as  the  men  entered  the  church  by  the  chancel  door,  to 
pitch  their  hats  in  a  heap  on  the  altar.  Also  that  on  his 
home-coming  with  his  bride,  he  was,  the  same  evening, 
requisitioned  to  put  a  stop  to  a  fight  between  two  drunken 
reprobates  outside  the  vicarage  gate.  Badsey  people  can 
in  these  modern  times  point  with  pride  to  a  much  higher 
standard  of  civilization,  and  they  fully  recognize  that 
"  'Eave  'alf  a  brick  at  his  'ead,  Bill,"  is  a  method  of 
welcome  to  a  stranger  not  considered  precisely  etiquette 
at  the  present  day. 


CHURCHWARDEN  EXPERIENCES  95 

There  was  no  vestry  before  the  restoration  of  Badsey 
Church;  the  Vicar's  surplice  might  be  seen  hanging  over 
the  side  of  one  of  the  square  pews  which  obstructed  the 
chancel,  and  when  the  Vicar  appeared  he  was  followed 
by  the  clerk,  who  assisted  at  the  public  ceremony  of  robing. 
Church  decorations  at  Christmas  consisted  at  that  time 
of  sprigs  of  holly  stuck  upright  in  holes  bored  along  the 
tops  of  the  pew  partitions  at  regular  intervals,  and  at  the 
harvest  thanksgiving  an  historic  miniature  rick  of  corn 
annually  made  its  appearance  on  the  altar.  In  those  days, 
however,  flowers,  which  are  scarcely  suitable  for  a  festival 
where  the  decorations  should  proclaim  the  abundance  of 
the  matured  season  of  growth,  by  corn  and  fruit,  were  not 
included.  I  have  seen  too  many  of  these,  to  the  exclusion 
of  corn,  in  modern  town  churches,  and  even  wild  oats, 
which,  though  very  pretty,  are  not  exactly  typical  of 
thanksgiving. 

It  is  surprising  how  much  damage  may  be  done  to  valuable 
old  woodwork  by  an  enthusiastic  band  of  decorators, 
assisted  by  an  indiscriminating  curate,  and  how  inharmoni- 
ous may  be  the  general  effect  of  individual  labours— though 
charming  taken  separately — where  a  comprehensive  scheme 
is  neglected.  I  have  counted  fourteen  differing  reds — 
not  tones  or  shades  of  the  same  colour — including  the  hood 
of  the  officiating  clergyman,  in  one  chancel  at  the  same  time, 
bewildering  to  the  eye  and  distracting  to  the  mind.  And 
I  once  saw  a  beautiful  and  priceless  old  Elizabethan  table 
in  a  vestry,  covered  with  a  mouldy  piece  of  purple  velvet 
secured  with  tin-tacks  driven  into  the  tortured  oak.  There 
are,  or  were,  two  lovely  old  Chippendale  chairs  with  the 
characteristic  backs  and  legs  inside  the  altar-rails  of  Badsey 
Church;  they  are  valuable  and  no  doubt  duly  appreciated, 
not  only  for  their  own  sake,  but  because  they  were  the  gift 
of  dear  old  Barnard,  the  clerk,  who  spent  fifty  years  of  his 
life  in  the  service  of  the  church. 

I  once  heard  a  curate  preaching  to  an  agricultural  con- 
gregation at  a  harvest  thanksgiving  after  a  disastrous 
season,  when  the  earth  had  not  yielded  much  by  way  of 


96  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

increase,  remarking  that  in  such  a  time  of  scarcity  we  might 
be  thankful  that  plent}^  of  foreign  corn  would  be  available; 
good  theology,  perhaps,  but  scarcely  expedient  under  the 
circumstances. 

We  found  Sir  Thomas  Graham  Jackson  a  purist  in  the 
matter  of  church  restoration,  and  in  my  capacity  as  church- 
warden and  treasurer,  I  was  fortunate  in  having  to  confer 
with  a  man  of  such  pre-eminent  good  taste.  He  would  not 
allow  some  new  oak  panels,  with  which  we  had  to  supple- 
ment the  old  linen-pattern  panels  of  the  pulpit,  to  be 
coloured  to  match  the  old  work.  "  Time,"  he  said,  "  will 
bring  them  all  together."  Possibly  the  lapse  of  two  hun- 
dred years  may  do  so,  but  I  saw  at  once  that  he  was  right 
in  the  principle  that  no  sham  should  be  tolerated  in  honest 
work,  more  especially  in  a  sacred  building.  We  objected 
also  to  a  new  chimney  which  surmounted  the  junction  of 
the  nave  and  choir  exteriorly :  it  seemed  to  smack  of  domes- 
tic detail;  but  here  again  he  satisfied  us  by  saying  that, 
as  heating  the  building  was  a  modern  necessity,  there  was 
no  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  such  an  indispensable  addition. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  this  chimney  long  ago  became  nicely 
toned  down  by  its  native  soot,  and  is  practically  un- 
noticeable. 

There  is  much  x\merican  oak,  I  believe,  now  used  in  new 
churches  and  public  buildings;  it  appears  to  resemble 
chestnut  much  more  than  English  oak,  and  I  doubt 
whether  it  will  ever  acquire  the  beautiful  tone  which  time 
confers  upon  the  latter.  It  should,  however,  be  recognized 
that  much  of  the  depth  of  colour  of  old  oak  panelling  is 
really  notliing  but  dirt,  though  the  true  dark  brown  tint 
of  old  age  can  be  found  underneath,  and  right  to  the  centre 
of  each  piece.  Spring-cleaning  of  the  past  consisted  very 
much  in  polishing  with  beeswax  and  turpentine,  without 
removing  the  dirt  produced  by  smoky  fires  and  constant 
handling,  so  that  extraneous  matter  became  coated  with 
the  polish  and  preserved  beneath  it.  I  have  had  occasion, 
when  restoring  old  woodwork,  to  wash  off  this  outside 
accretion,  and  when  removed,  the  tone  of  the  wood  re- 


CHURCHWARDEN  EXPERIENCES  97 


mained  still  dark,  though  lighter  than  before  it  lost  its 
black  and  somewhat  sticky  appearance. 

The  fakers  of  sham  old  furniture  produce  the  intense 
darkness  by  stains  of  various  kinds.  I  once  found  myself 
at  an  inn  in  Devonshire  which  contained  a  quantity  of 
"  delft  "  and  "  antique  oak  "  furniture  for  sale.  While  the 
attendant  was  bringing  me  some  refreshment,  I  tested  the 
genuineness  of  the  oak  by  a  small  chip  with  my  pocket- 
knife,  and,  as  I  anticipated,  found  perfectly  white  wood 
under  the  surface,  and,  I  believe,  American  oak.  The  irony 
of  the  transaction  is  striking;  here  was  a  piece  of  wood 
imported  from  the  States  only  a  few  months  before,  con- 
verted in  this  country  into  Elizabethan,  Jacobean,  and 
Stuart  furniture,  and  then,  it  may  be,  bought  by  American 
visitors  and  taken  back  to  their  OMm  country. 

Some  years  before  the  church  restoration  could  be  taken 
in  hand,  a  piece  of  land,  bordering  the  west  side  of  the 
churchyard,  and  between  it  and  the  highroad,  and  another 
similar  piece  on  the  east  side  of  the  churchyard,  were 
offered  for  sale  by  auction.  They  belonged  to  the  old 
Badsey  Manor  property  and  of  course  occupied  important 
positions  lying  in  each  case  just  between  the  churchyard 
and  the  adjoining  roads.  An  individual  who  had  fallen  out 
with  the  Vicar  announced  his  intention  of  purchasing  these 
pieces  and  building  cottages  and  a  public-house  upon  them, 
presurnably  "  to  spite  the  parson." 

The  Vicar  at  once  saw  the  absolute  necessity  of  acquiring 
the  land  for  the  church  and  enclosing  it  with  suitable  walls, 
as  an  addition  to  the  churchyard.  It  would  have  been  a 
terrible  eyesore  from  the  village  street  if  ugly  brick  and 
blue-slated  buildings  were  erected  in  front  of  the  beautiful 
old  grey  church,  and  the  idea  of  an  inn  in  such  a  place  was 
intolerable.  He  consulted  the  patrons  of  the  living,  who 
agreed  to  help,  and  simultaneously  a  good  old  aunt 
gave  him  leave  to  bid  up  to  a  certain  sum  on  her  behalf 
as  a  gift  to  the  parish. 

The  patrons  sent  a  representative  to  the  sale  with  an 
undisclosed  price,  at  which  he  was  empowered  to  make  the 


98  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


purchase.  Absolute  secrecy  was  preserved,  and,  except 
the  Vicar,  no  one  knew  the  man  or  whom  he  represented; 
he  was  to  leave  the  train  from  Oxford  at  Honeybourne 
Station  so  as  not  even  to  come  through  Evesham  to  Badsey. 
The  Vicar  had  arranged  that  the  patrons'  representative 
should  also  bid  on  behalf  of  the  aunt,  but  did  not  disclose 
the  limit.  The  man  was  not  to  bid  until  the  Vicar  himself 
stopped,  and  he  was  to  go  on  bidding  until  the  Vicar  removed 
a  rose  from  his  button-hole,  which  would  signify  that  the 
aunt's  limit  was  reached.  Whether  the  patrons'  representa- 
tive could  go  any  further  or  not,  the  Vicar  did  not  know. 

Before  the  auction  the  two  did  not  meet,  and  they  sat 
apart  during  the  proceedings.  The  village  malcontent 
was  in  great  form,  making  certain  of  success,  and  was 
delighted  when  the  Vicar  apparently  gave  up  bidding  as 
if  beaten.  The  rose  was  still  in  his  button-hole,  but  before 
long  the  aunt's  limit  was  reached,  and  it  had  to  be  removed; 
he  was  however  relieved  to  find  that  the  patrons'  repre- 
sentative continued  to  bid.  His  opponent  was  getting 
very  fidgety  as  the  price  rose,  hesitating  for  some  moments 
every  time  the  bidding  was  against  him.  Just  as  the 
hammer  was  about  to  fall  he  would  arrest  it  with,  "  Try 
'im  again,"  but  the  stranger  instantly  capped  his  reluctant 
bid,  always  leaving  him  to  consider  a  further  advance  in 
great  discomfort.  At  last  in  despair  but  quite  certain  that 
the  Vicar  at  any  rate  was  knocked  out  he  gave  up,  ex- 
claiming, "  'E  med  'ave  it,  'e  med  'ave  it " ;  and  the  hammer 
fell.  All  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  unknown  bidder,  and 
the  auctioneer  demanded  "the  name  of  the  buyer";  very 
quietly  came  the  announcement,  "  The  Dean  and  Chapter 
of  Christ  Church."  Horribly  disgusted  the  malcontent 
fired  a  parting  shot  as  he  reached  the  door:  "If  I'd  a- 
knowed  the  pairson  was  a  goin'  to  'ave  it,  I'd  a  made  'im 
pay  a  pretty  penny  more  nor  that." 

This  Vicar  was  a  very  impressive  reader,  especially  of 
dramatic  stories  from  the  Old  Testament.  As  he  read 
the  account  of  the  discomfiture  of  the  priests  of  Baal  by 
the  Prophet  Elijah  one  could  visualize  the  scene.     Elijah's 


CHURCHWARDEN  EXPERIENCES  99 


dripping  sacrifice  blazing  to  the  skies,  the  priests  of  Baal, 
mutilated  by  their  OAvn  knives  and  lancets,  in  vain  implor- 
ing their  god  to  send  the  fire  to  vindicate  himsell".  The 
heavens  were  black,  and  one  could  hear  the  rush  of  Ahab's 
chariot,  the  roar  of  the  thunder  and  the  hissing  torrent  of 
rain,  and  see  the  prophet  running  swiftly  before  him. 
The  Vicar,  however,  was  not  an  actor  like  a  clergyman  I 
was  told  of,  who  got  so  excited  over  Agag  and  his  delicate 
approach  to  Samuel  that  he  could  not  resist  an  illustration 
to  intensify  the  action  by  taking  a  mincing  step  or  two 
aside  from  the  lectern. 

No  village  is  complete  without  its  curmudgeon  or  self- 
appointed  grumbler,  just  as  every  village  has  its  special 
imbecile.  The  curmudgeon  originates  in  a  class  above  the 
idiot ;  very  often  he  is  an  ex-churchwarden,  guardian,  way- 
warden, or  other  official,  who  has  resigned  in  dudgeon  or 
been  ousted  from  his  post  for  some  neglect  or  failure.  He 
is  a  man  with  whom  the  world  has  gone  wrong,  a  sufferer, 
perhaps,  from  some  disaster  which  has  become  an  obses- 
sion. He  views  everything  with  distorted  eyesight; 
nothing  pleases  him,  and  he  wants  to  put  everybody  right. 
He  cherishes  a  perpetual  grievance  against  some  individual 
or  clique  for  a  fancied  slight,  and  goes  about  trying  to  stir 
up  ill-feeling  among  the  ignorant  by  malicious  insinuations. 
In  former  times  he  was  an  adept  at  "  parson-baiting  " 
at  the  annual  Easter  vestry  meeting,  when  he  would  air 
his  grievance  against  the  Vicar  of  the  parish  or  any  person 
in  authority. 

.  At  these  vestries  the  Vicar  is  wise  if  he  declares  the 
curmudgeon  to  be  "  out  of  order,"  and  declines  to  hear  him, 
for,  legally,  the  business  does  not  include  any  matter 
which  does  not  appear  upon  the  notice  convening  the 
meeting,  signed  by  the  Vicar  and  churchwardens.  This 
usually  announces  that  churchwardens  will  be  elected  and 
the  accounts  produced;  the  latter,  since  church  rates  were 
abolished,  is  not  obligatory,  and  only  subscribers  have  a 
right  to  question  them.  The  proceedings  are  not  legal 
unless  three  full  days  have  elapsed  since  the  publication 


100  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


of  the  notice  on  a  Sunday  before  morning  service,  the 
following  Thursday  being  thus  the  earliest  day  on  which 
the  meeting  can  take  place.  It  is  important  to  remember 
that  no  churchwarden  has  a  legal  status  before  he  has  been 
formally  admitted  by  the  Archdeacon. 

In  former  times,  before  the  creation  of  Parish,  District 
and  County  Councils,  the  curmudgeon,  after  the  reaction 
of  the  winter  months,  became  very  prominent  towards  the 
time  of  the  Easter  vestry,  when  he  would  appear,  having 
enlisted  a  small  band  of  supporters,  with  a  number  of 
grievances  relating  to  rates,  parish  officials,  rights  of  way, 
footpaths,  and  such-like  debatable  subjects.  Of  course, 
he  should  have  been  promptly  squashed  by  the  chairman, 
but  too  often  an  indulgent  Vicar  would  allow  him  to  have 
his  fling. 

Now,  however,  the  curmudgeon  can  easily  get  himself 
elected  upon  one  of  the  numerous  councils;  having  mis- 
managed his  own  affairs  until  he  has  none  left  to  manage, 
he  appears  to  regard  himself  as  a  fit  and  proper  person  to 
mismanage  the  business  of  other  people,  and  the  brief 
authority  which  his  position  confers  gives  him  a  welcome 
opportunity  of  letting  off  superfluous  steam. 

Parishioners  sometimes  combined  and  elected  an  un- 
popular person  to  a  troublesome  post  which  nobody 
wanted.  Such  was  the  office  of  way-warden,  under  whose 
jurisdiction  came  the  management  and  repair  of  parish 
roads,  superintending  and  paying  the  roadmen,  and  keep- 
ing the  necessary  records  and  accounts.  A  market- 
gardener,  a  canny  Scot,  who  had  fallen  into  disfavour,  had 
this  office  thrust  upon  him  much  against  his  will.  Once 
elected,  the  victim  had  no  choice  in  the  matter,  and,  being 
a  very  busy  man,  he  was  thoroughly  annoj'-ed.  He  soon 
discovered  a  weapon  wherewith  to  avenge  the  wrong — 
one  which  his  opponents  had  put  into  his  hands  themselves; 
during  his  year  of  office  he  restricted  the  road  repairs  to 
a  lane  adjoining  his  o\^^l  land,  leading  to  the  railway- 
station,  which  his  carts  traversed  many  times  daily.  He 
gave  it  a  thorough  good  coat  of  stones,  and  all  the  available 


CHURCHWARDEN  EXPERIENCES  101 

labour,  as  well  as  the  cash  chargeable  on  the  rates  of  the 
parish,  was  in  this  way  expended,  chiefly  for  liis  own 
benefit,  though  the  parish  shared  to  the  extent  of  the  use 
they  made  of  this  particular  piece  of  road.  Great  was  the 
outcry,  but  nothing  could  be  done  till  the  year  of  office 
expired,  and,  naturally,  he  was  never  elected  again. 

The  purchase  of  the  land  adjoining  the  churcliyard  had 
a  remarkable  sequel;  it  was  conveyed  to  the  Vicar  and 
churchwardens  for  the  time  being,  these  original  church- 
wardens having  been  long  out  of  the  office  before  my 
appointment.  After  the  restoration  of  the  church  my 
co-warden  and  I,  with  the  Vicar's  consent,  levelled  the 
rough  places  in  the  neglected  churchyard,  sowed  it  with 
grass  seeds,  and  planted  various  ornamental  shrubs; 
we  had  the  untidy  southern  boundary  carefully  dug  over, 
and  set  a  man  to  plant  a  yew-hedge.  He  was  thus  em- 
ployed when  a  parishioner  appeared  in  some  excitement, 
and  objected  to  the  planting  of  yew  on  account  of  possible 
damage  to  sheep  grazing  in  the  churchyard,  claiming  the 
right — which,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  belonged  to  the  Vicar 
alone,  though  never  exercised — to  such  grazing,  jointly 
with  the  Vicar.  He  proceeded  to  pull  up  some  of  the  young 
yews  as  a  protest,  and  threw  them  uprooted  on  the  ground. 
The  man  employed  reported  the  matter  to  my  co-warden, 
living  near,  who  was  very  soon  at  my  house. 

We  decided  to  prosecute  the  offender,  and  obtained  the 
Vicar's  consent,  he  being  the  legal  prosecutor.  The  case 
was  heard  by  a  bench  of  magistrates  composed  entirely  of 
clergy  and  churchwarden  squires,  who  naturally  sym- 
pathized with  us,  and,  quite  logically,  convicted  the  de- 
fendant in  a  fine,  I  think,  of  about  25s.  and  costs,  or  a 
term  in  Worcester  Gaol  in  default.  The  defendant  refused 
to  pay  a  farthing  and  was  removed  in  custody;  but  later 
our  dear  old  Vicar,  very  generously,  came  forward  and 
paid  the  amount  himself. 

Shortly  before  the  church  restoration  I  had  a  notice  to 
attend  an  archidiaconal  visitation,  and  duly  appeared 
at  the  church  at  the  time  arranged.     The  Archdeacon 


102  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


made  a  careful  inspection  of  the  fabric  and  property  of  the 
church,  not  too  well  pleased  with  its  dilapidated  appear- 
ance. Nothing  much  was  said  till  we  reached  the  four- 
teentli-century  font,  showing  signs  of  long  use.  The  Arch- 
deacon motioned  to  the  clerk  to  remove  the  oak  cover, 
and  the  old  man,  with  the  air  of  an  officious  waiter,  lifted 
it  with  a  flourish,  disclosing,  inside  the  cracked  font,  a 
white  pudding-basin,  inside  which,  again,  reposed  a  species 
of  beetle  known  as  a  "  devil's  coach-horse."  The  Arch- 
deacon, peering  in  and  evidently  recognizing  the  insect 
and  its  popular  designation,  and  looking  much  shocked, 
exclaimed  with  some  warmth:  "Dear  me!  I  should 
scarcely  have  expected  to  find  ihcU  thing  in  a  font  !" 

This  story  reminds  me  of  a  similar  visitation  depicted 
in  Punch.  The  Archdeacon  was  seen  at  the  lych-gate  of 
a  country  church  in  company  with  a  churchwarden 
farmer,  the  Vicar  being  unable  to  attend.  The  contrast 
was  well  delineated — the  Archdeacon  tall,  thin,  and  ascetic, 
in  a  long  black  coat  and  archidiaconal  hat ;  and  the  farmer 
of  the  John  Bull  type,  in  ample  breeches  and  gaiters. 
The  churchyard  presented  a  magnificent  crop  of  exuberant 
wheat : 

Archdeacon.  I  don't  like  this  at  all;  I  shall  really  have 
to  speak  to  the  Vicar  about  it. 

Churchwarden  {thinking  of  the  rotation  of  crops).  Just 
what  I  told  un,  sir — just  what  I  told  'un.  "  You  keeps 
on  a-wheating  of  it  and  a-wheating  of  it,"  I  says;  "  why 
don't  you  tater  it?"  says  I. 

At  Badsey  objections  were  soon  heard  to  the  innovation 
of  the  surpliced  choir  and  improved  music  in  the  restored 
church;  one  old  villager,  living  close  by,  expressed  himself 
as  follows  concerning  the  entry  of  the  Vicar  and  choir, 
in  procession,  from  the  new  vestry:  "  They  come  in  with 
themi  boys  all  dressed  vip  like  a  lot  of  little  parsons,  and 
the  parson  behind  'em  just  like  the  old  Pope  hisself. 
But  there  ain't  no  call  for  me  to  go  to  church  now,  for  I  can 
set  at  home  and  hear  'em  a  baarlin'  [noise  like  a  calf] 
and  a  harmenin  [amening]  in  me  own  house." 


CLERICAL  AND  OTHER  STORIES  ^03 

On  a  similar  occasion,  in  another  parish  where  more 
elaborate  music  had  been  introduced,  an  old  coachman, 
given  to  much  devotional  musical  energy,  told  me  as  a  sore 
grievance:  "  You  know,  sir,  I'd  used  to  like  singin'  a  bit 
myself,  but  now,  as  soon  as  I've  worked  myself  up  to  a 
tidy  old  pitch,  all  of  a  sudden  they  leaves  off,  and  I  be  left 
a  bawlin'  !" 

Among  various  special  weekday  services  I  remember  a 
Confirmation  when  an  elderly  Aldington  parishioner  had 
courageously  decided  to  participate  in  the  rite.  She  was 
missing  from  the  ceremony,  and  told  my  wife  afterwards, 
in  answer  to  inquiries,  that  a  bad  headache  had  prevented 
her  from  attending,  adding:  "  But  there,  you  can't  stand 
agin  your  'ead  !" 

I  was  at  the  house  of  a  neighbouring  Vicar  where  the 
Bishop  of  the  diocese  had  been  lunching  shortly  before, 
when  there  was  a  dish  of  very  fine  oranges  on  the  table 
and  another  of  Blenheim  orange  apples.  The  Bishop  was 
offered  a  Blenheim  orange  by  the  Vicar,  who  remarked 
that  they  came  from  his  own  garden.  The  Bishop  had 
probably  never  heard  of  a  Blenheim  orange,  and  the  latter 
word  directed  his  attention  to  the  dish  of  oranges.  He 
examined  them  with  great  surprise,  and  exclaimed: 
"  Dear  me  !  I  had  no  idea  that  oranges  would  come  to  such 
perfection  out  of  doors  in  this  climate." 

A  capital  story  was  told  by  a  Bishop  of  Worcester, 
in  connection  with  the  efforts  of  the  Church  in  that  part 
of  the  country  to  alleviate  the  lot  of  the  hop-pickers,  who 
flock  into  Worcestershire  in  September  by  the  thousand. 
One  of  the  mission  workers,  who  had  gone  down  to  the  hop- 
yards,  met  a  dilapidated  individual  in  a  country  lane,  who 
said  he  was  "a  picker."  Pressed  for  further  particulars, 
the  man  responded:  "In  the  summer  I  picks  peas  and 
fruit;  when  autumn  comes  I  picks  hops;  in  the  winter  I 
picks  pockets;  and  when  I'm  caught  I  picks  oakum. 
I'm  kept  nice  and  warm  during  the  cold  months,  and  when 
the  fine  days  come  round  once  more  I  starts  pea-picking 
again." 


104  ^A^  ENGLISH  MANOR 

My  second  Vicar  was  a  scholar,  an  excellent  preacher 

of  very  condensed  sermons ;  he  conducted  the  services  with 

great  dignity,  but  his  manner  to  the  villagers  was  a  little 

alarming.     He  found  the  old  clerk  somewhat  officious,  I 

think.     One  evening,  after  service,  when  some  strangers 

from  Evesham  attended — for  Badsey  was  a  pleasant  walk 

on  a  summer  evening — the  clerk  announced  to  the  Vicar, 

with  great  jubilation,  that  "  the  gentleman  with  the  party 

from  Evesham  expressed  himself  as  very  well  satisfied 

with  the  service."     No  doubt  the  clerk  had  received  a 

practical  proof  of  the  satisfaction.     The  clerk  imagined, 

I  believe,  that  he  was  as  much  responsible  for  the  conduct 

of  the  services  as  the  Vicar,  and  thought  the  latter  would  be 

equally  pleased  with  the  stranger's  commendation.     He 

was  disappointed,  I  fear,  for  the  Vicar  did  not  seem  in  the 

least  impressed,  showing,  too,  some  annoyance  at  what 

doubtless  appeared  to  him  great  presumption. 

At  the  time  of  the  Boer  War,  followed  by  the  Boxers' 
revolt  in  China  and  the  Siege  of  Peking,  when  telegrams 
were  exhibited  in  the  post-office  every  Sunday  morning, 
I  saw  one  day,  on  my  way  to  church,  that  Peking  had  been 
relieved.  The  Vicar — my  third — preached  on  the  subject 
of  the  terrors  of  the  siege — his  sermon  having  been  written 
on  the  previous  day — and  drew  a  harrowing  picture  of  the 
fate  of  the  defenders.  After  service  I  asked  if  he  had  not 
seen  the  telegram,  and  told  him  the  good  news.  "  Good 
gracious  !"  said  he;  "I  am  glad  I  didn't  know  that  before 
the  service;  what  should  I  have  done  about  my  sermon  ?" 
I  was  a  little  surprised  that  the  delivery  of  a  sermon  which 
was  no  longer  to  the  point  should  appear  more  important 
than  the  announcement  of  the  happy  event ;  but  perhaps 
the  position  would  have  been  somewhat  undignified  had 
he  been  obliged  to  explain,  and  dismiss  the  congregation 
with  apologies. 

An  elderly  Vicar,  in  a  parish  in  the  adjoining  county, 
Gloucestershire,  found  the  morning  service  with  a  sermon 
very  fatiguing,  and  the  patron,  the  Squire,  suggested  that 
the  ante-Communion  service  would  be  less  tiring  in  place 


CLERICAL  AND  OTHER  STORIES  105 

of  the  latter.  He  was  not  a  very  interesting  preacher, 
and  the  Squire  was  quite  as  well  pleased  as  the  Vicar  when 
he  agreed.  There  was  never  a  sermon  at  the  morning 
service  thereafter. 

Other  denominations  besides  the  Church,  of  course, 
existed  in  the  parish  and  neighbourhood;  we  did  not  hear 
much  about  them,  but  the  following  story  was  related  as 
occurring  in  a  neighbouring  village.  To  see  the  point  it  is 
necessary  to  introduce  the  actors;  they  consisted  of  Daniel 
S.  and  Jim  H.,  rival  hedgers  in  the  art  of  "pleaching," 
of  which  Joseph  Arch  was  such  a  notable  exponent. 
Daniel  had  lately  been  employed  upon  a  job  of  this  kind 
for  a  farmer,  Mr.  (locally  Master)  R.  The  scene  was  the 
room  that  did  duty  for  a  chapel  in  the  village. 

Daniel  S.  advanced  to  the  reading-desk,  and,  turning 
over  the  leaves  of  the  Bible  to  find  the  Book  of  Daniel, 
announced  sententiously:  "Let's  see  what  Dannel  done 
in  his  dai  [day]."  Up  jumped  Jim  H.  at  the  back  of  the 
room:  "  Oh,  I  can  tell  tha  [thee]  what  Dannel  done  in  his 
dai — cut  a  yedge  [hedge]  for  Master  R.,  and  took  whome 
all  the  best  of  the  'ood  [wood] !" 

A  story  was  current  too — nearer  home  this  time^ — of  a 
grand  fete  given  to  the  children.  They  marched  in  pro- 
cession from  one  village  to  another,  in  which  the  tea  was 
to  take  place,  under  the  leadership  of  an  ancient  parishioner. 
Of  this  person  it  was  said  that  he  had  violated  every 
article  of  the  Decalogue,  and  that  had  the  number  been 
twenty  instead  of  ten  he  would  have  treated  them  with 
equal  indifference  !  As  the  children  entered  the  second 
village  with  beaming  faces  and  banners  waving,  as  he  gave 
the  word  of  command,  they  sang  in  sweet  trebles  and  in 
perfect  innocence,  "See  the  mighty  host  advancmg, 
Satan  leading  on  !" 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE     SCHOOL     BOARD— RELIGIOUS     INSTRUCTION— SCHOOL 
INSPECTIONS— DEAN  FARRAR— COMPULSORY  EDUCATION 

"  Knowledge  is  proud  that  he  has  learned  so  much; 
Wisdom  is  liumblc  that  he  knows  no  more." 

COWPER. 

When  I  came  to  Aldington  I  found  that  by  the  energy 
of  the  Vicar  an  elementary  school  had  been  built  and 
equipped,  and  was  working  well  under  the  voluntary 
system.  I  accepted  the  post  of  treasurer  at  his  invitation, 
but  as  time  went  on  financial  difficulties  arose,  as  the  Educa- 
tion Department  increased  their  requirements.  The  large 
farmers  were  being  gradually  ruined  by  foreign  competi- 
tion, and  the  small  market-gardeners,  in  occupation  of  the 
land  as  it  fell  vacant,  could  not  be  induced  to  subscribe, 
although  their  own  children  were  the  sole  beneficiaries.  A 
voluntary  rate  was  suggested,  but  met  with  no  general 
response,  one  old  parishioner  announcing  that  she 
didn't  intend  "  to  pay  no  voluntary  rate  until  she  was 
obliged  "  !  » 

Matters  were  getting  desperate  when  Vicar  No.  2 
arrived,  and  it  soon  became  evident  that  the  voluntary 
system  had  completely  broken  down.  A  School  Board 
was  the  only  alternative,  and,  as  all  the  old  managers 
refused  to  become  members  and  no  one  else  would  under- 
take the  responsibility,  a  deadlock  ensued.  We  were 
threatened  by  the  Education  Department  that,  failing 
a  Board  of  parishioners,  they  would  appoint  for  the  post 
any  outsiders,  non-ratepayers,  who  could  be  induced  to 
volunteer.  The  prospect  was  not  a  pleasant  one,  and  on 
the  invitation  of  a  deputation  of  working  men,  I  agreed 
to  stand  (chiefly,  perhaps,  in  my  own  interests,  as  the 
largest  ratepayer  in  the  parish,  with  the  exception  of  the 

106 


THE  SCHOOL  BOARD  107 


Great  Western  Railway  Company),  and  others  eventually 
came  forward. 

The  Board  was  constituted,  and  we  were  rather  a  three- 
cornered  lot:  my  co-warden;  a  boot  and  shoemaker  in 
Evesham,  with  land  in  Badsey;  a  carpenter  and  small 
builder;  three  small  market-gardeners  and  myself.  I  was 
elected  chairman,  and  we  obtained  the  services  of  an  ex- 
cellent clerk,  who  held  the  same  office  for  the  Evesham 
Board  of  Guardians — a  capable  man,  and  well  up  in  the 
forms  and  idiosyncrasies  of  the  Board  of  Education.  Our 
designation  was  "  the  United  District  School  Board  of 
Badsey,  Aldington,  and  Wickhamford."  It  was  not  easy 
to  discover  the  qualifications  of  all  the  members  from 
an  educational  point  of  view;  some  at  least  represented 
the  village  malcontent  section,  now  getting  rather  nervous 
as  to  School  Board  rates.  And  there  was  a  talkative 
section  who  illustrated  the  truth  of  the  old  proverb,  "  It  is 
not  the  loudest  cackling  hen  that  lays  the  biggest  egg," 
and  of,  perhaps,  the  still  more  expressive,  "  It's  the  worst 
wheel  of  the  waggon  that  makes  the  most  noise."  One, 
at  any  rate,  was  definitely  qualified — "He  knowed  summat 
about  draining  !"  The  majority  were  conspicuous  as 
economists  in  the  matter  of  probable  school  expenditure, 
and  it  appeared  later  that  two,  if  not  three,  of  the  members 
were  unable  to  write  their  own  names,  so  that  sometimes  we 
could  not  get  the  necessary  number  of  signatures  to  the 
cheques,  when  some  of  the  more  efficient  members  hap- 
pened to  be  absent. 

Early  in  our  existence  as  a  United  Board,  one  of  the 
economists  made  a  little  speech  in  which  he  propounded 
the  theory  that  "our  first  duty  is  to  the  ratepayers"; 
but  I  could  not  help  suggesting  that,  as  a  legally  appointed 
body,  we  were  bound  to  obey  the  law  beyond  all  other 
considerations,  and  corrected  his  dictum,  with  all  relpect, 
by  substituting  that  "  our  first  duty  is  to  the  children." 
I  must  do  him  the  justice  to  say  that  he  accepted  my  sug- 
gestion in  a  complimentary  manner. 

It  soon  became  evident  that  it  is  not  always  desirable 


108  ^A^  ENGLISH  MANOR 

to  belong  to  a  parish  grouped  with  others  under  a  United 
District  School  Board.  Aldington  possessed  the  largest 
rateable  value  with  the  lowest  population,  which  was  about 
equal  to  Wickhamford  with  the  lowest  rateable  value;  and 
Badsey,  with  by  far  the  largest  population,  came  between 
Aldington  and  Wickhamford  as  to  rateable  value — the 
obvious  result  being  that  Aldington  was  called  upon  to  pay 
an  excessive  and  unfair  share  of  the  cost  of  educating 
Badsey's  children.  We  did  not,  however,  want  a  school 
in  our  quiet  village;  it  is  something  to  get  rid  of  children 
when  inclined  to  be  noisy,  so  we  did  not  grumble  at  a  little 
extra  expense. 

We  carried  on  the  school  at  first  in  the  old  building,  but 
very  soon  the  Department  began  to  press  for  a  larger  and 
better-equipped  establishment.  Many  of  their  require- 
ments we  considered  unnecessary  in  a  country  village,  and 
put  off  the  evil  day  as  long  as  possible,  with  such  phrases 
as,  "  The  matter  is  under  consideration,"  or,  "  Will  shortly 
be  brought  to  the  notice  of  the  Board."  Like  "  retribu- 
tion," however,  the  Education  Department,  "  though 
leaden-footed,  comes  iron-handed,"  and  when  all  other 
methods  failed  they  always  put  forward  as  a  final  induce- 
ment to  comply  with  their  demands  the  threat  of  with- 
holding the  Government  grant;  so  that,  in  spite  of  the 
shoemaker's  encomium,  that  "  Our  chairman  has  plenty  of 
comfca^iveness,"  we  had  eventually  to  give  way. 

At  the  outset  it  was  decided  to  admit  the  Press;  our 
meetings  were  generally  expected  to  afford  some  spicy 
copy  for  readers  of  the  local  papers,  but  I  am  pleased  to 
think  that  both  reporters  and  readers  were  disappointed. 
Some  of  our  neighbours  had  given  us  specially  lively  speci- 
mens of  the  personalities  indulged  in  at  the  meetings  of 
their  local  bodies,  Boards  of  Guardians,  and  Councils — 
notably,  at  that  time,  those  of  Winchcombe  and  Stow-on- 
the-Wold,  where  these  exhibitions  appeared  to  form  a 
favourite  diversion.  It  is  a  mistake  for  such  a  Board 
as  ours  to  admit  reporters;  the  noisy  members  are  apt  to 
monopolize  the  speaking,  to  the  exclusion  of  the  more 


THE  SCHOOL  BOARD  109 

useful  and  more  thoughtful;  the  former  play  to  the  gallery 
to  the  extent  of  visibly  addressing  themselves  to  the  re- 
porters instead  of  to  the  chairman,  as  is  proper. 

The  first  point  we  had  to  consider  was  the  acquisition  of 
a  suitable  site  for  the  new  buildings,  the  old  site  not 
affording  space  to  enlarge  the  premises  or  for  the  addition 
of  a  master's  house.  We  were  lucky  to  get  the  offer  of  an 
excellent  position,  allowing  not  only  space  for  all  the  build- 
ings in  contemplation,  but  ample  room  for  future  enlarge- 
ments, which  it  w:.s  evident  would  be  needed  before  many 
more  years.  I  was  requested,  with  another  member,  to 
interview  the  vendor's  solicitors,  and  we  were  empowered  to 
make  the  best  bargain  we  could  arrange  for  the  site. 

We  concluded  the  purchase,  and  congratulated  ourselves 
upon  the  acquisition  of  a  central  and  in  every  way  desirable 
site,  with  a  long  road  frontage,  for  the  very  moderate 
sum  of,  I  think,  £90.  On  reporting  to  the  Board  at  our 
next  meeting,  the  sum  appeared  large  to  some  of  the  more 
simple  members,  and  they  were  inclined  to  be  dissatisfied, 
until  I  told  them  that  I  was  prepared  to  appropriate  the 
bargain  myself,  and  they  could  find  another  for  the  school. 
This  settled  the  matter,  and,  I  suppose,  at  the  present 
time  the  site  would  fetch  two  or  three  times  what  it 
cost  us. 

Plans  and  specifications  were  now  necessary,  and  from 
inquiries  I  had  made  I  was  able  to  suggest  an  architect 
with  much  experience  in  school  buildings.  He  appeared 
before  the  Board  later,  and  was  subjected  to  many  ques- 
tions from  the  members,  of  which  I  only  remember  one  that 
appealed  to  me  as  original:  "Do  you  pose  before  this 
Board  as  an  economical  architect  ?"  We  soon  had  the 
work  in  train,  but,  of  course,  before  any  active  steps  were 
taken,  all  our  proposals  were  submitted  to,  and  approved  by 
the  Education  Department. 

The  question  of  religious  instruction  became  urgent, 
and  I  was  pleased  and  surprised  at  carrying  a  unanimous 
resolution  through  the  Board — although  it  included  some 
Nonconformists — that  the  Vicar  (No.  2),  who  had  declined 


110  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


to  be  nominated  as  a  candidate  for  election,  should  be 
invited  to  undertake  the  religious  instruction  of  the  school. 
The  Vicar  consented,  and  the  arrangement  worked  smoothly 
for  some  years.  One  day,  later,  a  member  rose,  and  in- 
quired if  the  children  were  receiving  religious  instruction. 
"  Yes,"  I  said.  "  Are  the  children  taught  science  ?" 
"  Yes,"  again.  "  Well,"  said  he,  "  how  do  you  reconcile 
the  fact,  when  religion  and  science  are  not  in  agreement  ?" 
Fortunately,  I  had  been  lately  taking  a  course  of  Darwin, 
and  I  was  able  to  refer  him  to  the  concluding  lines  of  the 
Origin  of  Species.  We  debated  the  matter  with  some 
energy,  but  having  made  his  protest,  the  member  was 
satisfied  to  let  the  matter  drop. 

All  went  well  thereafter  until  we  were  settled  in  the  new 
building,  and  Vicar  No.  3  was  in  possession  of  the  living. 
He  was  young  and  inexperienced  in  the  conduct  of  a 
parish,  and  was  imbued  with  ideas  of  what  he  con- 
sidered a  more  ornate  and  elaborate  form  of  worship. 
Innovations  followed — lighted  candles  over  the  altar  and 
the  appointment  of  a  Server  at  the  Communion  Service. 
Almost  immediately  I  heard  objections  from  the  villagers; 
they  could  not  understand  the  necessity  for  a  couple  of 
dim  candles  in  a  church  on  a  summer  day,  when  the  whole 
world  outside  was  ablaze  with  the  glory  of  the  sun. 

A  member  arose  at  a  Board  meeting,  and  began:  "  Mr. 
Chairman,  I  wish  to  draw  the  attention  of  the  Board 
to  the  question  of  religious  instruction  in  the  school,  for 
I  reckon  that  our  children  are  being  taught  a  lot  of  Popery." 
I  could  see  that  he  had  been  in  consultation  with  other 
members  of  the  Board,  and  that  he  had  a  majority  behind 
him.  I  tried  hard  to  smooth  matters  over,  but  they 
had  made  up  their  minds,  and  he  carried  his  resolution 
that,  in  future,  the  new  Vicar  should  be  authorized  to  enter 
the  school  for  the  purpose  of  religious  instruction  only 
one  day  a  week  !  I  think  this  small  indulgence  was 
accorded  only  as  a  result  of  my  efforts  in  his  favour, 
though  I  was  by  no  means  pleased  with  the  innovations 
myself. 


SCHOOL  INSPECTIONS  111 


I  put  the  matter  before  the  Vicar,  asking  him  if  he 
thought  his  novelties  were  worth  while  in  the  face  of  the 
opposition  of  the  village  and  the  loss  of  his  religious  in- 
fluence with  the  children.  He  would  not  go  back  from 
what,  he  said,  he  regarded  as  a  matter  of  principle,  and 
could  not  see  that  he  was  throwing  away  a  unique  oppor- 
tunity, but  he  agreed  to  withdraw  the  unwelcome  Server. 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  every  detail  of  the  new  school 
building  had  been  submitted  to,  and  approved  by,  the 
Education  Department,  trouble  began  with  an  officious 
inspector,  who  on  his  first  visit  complained  of  the  ventila- 
tion. An  elementary  school  is  never  exactly  a  bed  of 
roses,  but  we  had  a  lofty  building  and  classrooms,  with 
plenty  of  windows,  which  could  be  adjusted  to  admit  as 
much  or  as  little  fresh  air  as  was  requisite.  We  protested 
without  result,  and  we  had  eventually  to  pull  the  new  walls 
about  and  spend  £20  on  what  we  considered  an  uncalled- 
for  alteration. 

Our  inspectors  of  schools  varied  greatly :  some  were  quiet 
with  the  children  and  considerate  with  the  teachers ;  others 
vindicated  their  authority  by  unnecessary  fault-finding, 
upsetting  the  teachers  and  alarming  the  children.  In  the 
days  of  our  voluntary  school  I  have  seen  a  room  full  of 
children  in  a  state  of  nervous  tension,  and  the  mistress 
and  pupil-teachers  in  tears,  as  the  result  of  inconsiderate 
reprimands  and  irritable  speech.  My  sympathies  have 
been  strongly  aroused  on  such  occasions  with  a  child's 
terror  of  being  made  an  exhibition  before  the  others. 
As  a  boy  at  Harrow,  in  the  form  of  the  Rev.  F.  W.  Farrar, 
afterwards  Dean  of  Canterbury,  I  had  an  unpleasant 
experience,  though  it  was  no  fault  of  his  and  quite  uninten- 
tional. The  Russian  Government  had  sent  a  deputation 
of  two  learned  professors  to  England,  to  inquiie  into  the 
educational  system  of  the  Public  Schools,  with  the  view 
of  sending  a  member  of  the  Royal  family  for  education 
in  this  country.  Among  other  schools,  they  visited 
Harrow,  and  Mr.  Farrar's  form  was  one  of  those  selected 
for  inspection.      It  was  the  evening  of   a  winter's  day, 


112  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


when,  at  the  four  o'clock  school,  we  found  two  very 
formidable-looking  old  gentlemen  in  spectacles  and  many 
furs  seated  near  the  master's  desk.  Great  was  the  con- 
sternation, but  Mr.  Farrar  was  careful  not  to  call  upon 
any  boy  who  would  be  likely  to  exhibit  himself  as  a  failure. 
I  was  seated  near  Mr.  Farrar,  at  one  end  of  a  bench.  He 
had  a  habit,  when  wanting  to  change  his  position,  of  moving 
quite  unconsciously  across  the  intervening  space  between  his 
desk  and  this  bench,  and  placing  one  foot  on  the  bench  close 
to  the  nearest  boy,  he  would,  with  one  hand,  play  with  the 
boy's  hair,  while  he  held  his  book  in  the  other.  With 
horror,  I  found  him  approaching,  and  shortly  his  hand 
was  on  my  head,  rubbing  my  hair  round  and  round,  and 
ruffling  it  in  a  fashion  very  trying  to  any  boy  who  was  neat 
and  careful  of  his  personal  appearance.  I  could  see  the 
Russians  staring  through  their  spectacles  at  these  proceed- 
ings; possibly  they  thought  it  a  form  of  punishment 
unknown  in  Russia,  and  my  feelings  of  humiliation  can  be 
imagined.  Finally  he  gave  me  a  smack  on  the  cheek 
and  retired  to  his  desk,  leaving  my  hair  in  a  state  of  chaos, 
though  he  had  not  the  least  idea  of  having  done  anything 
which  might  appear  unusual  to  the  foreigners. 

Dear  "  old  Farrar  "  ! — as  we  irreverently  called  him — it 
was  an  education  in  itself  to  be  in  his  form.  I  had  the 
uncommon  privilege  of  moving  upwards  in  the  School 
at  very  much  the  same  rate  as  he  did  as  a  master,  though 
I  fear  for  my  school  reputation  none  too  quickly.  He 
first  kindled  my  admiration  for  the  classic  giants  of  English 
literature,  more  especially  the  poets,  taught  me  to  appre- 
ciate the  rolling  periods  of  Homer,  and  even  the  beauty 
of  the  characters  of  the  Greek  alphabet.  He  was  a 
voluminous  student  of  the  best  in  every  form  of  ancient 
and  modern  literature.  He  always  kept  a  copy  of  Milton, 
his  favourite  poet  I  think,  on  his  desk,  and,  whenever  a 
passage  in  the  Greek  or  Latin  classics  occurred,  for  which 
he  could  produce  a  parallel,  quoted  pages  without  refer- 
ence to  the  book. 

I  recall  my  delight  and  pride  when  I  was  sent  on  two 


DEAN  FARRAR  113 


occasions  to  the  headmaster,  Dr.  Butler,  the  late  Master 
of  Trinity,  with  copies  of  original  verses;  and  the  honour  I 
felt  it  to  inscribe  them,  at  Mr.  Farrar's  request,  in  a  MS. 
book  he  kept  for  the  purpose  of  collecting  approved  original 
efforts  in  the  author's  ovm  writing.  For  it  was  his  habit 
once  a  week  to  give  us  subjects  for  verses  or  composition. 
A  unique  effort  of  the  Captain  of  the  School  cricket  eleven, 
C.  F.  Buller,  comes  back  to  me  as  I  write;  it  did  not  how- 
ever appear  in  the  MS.  book.  The  School  Chapel  was  the 
subject,  full  of  interest  and  stirring  to  the  imagination, 
if  only  for  the  aisle  to  the  memory  of  Harrow  officers  who 
fell  in  the  Crimea.  Buller's  flight  of  imagination  was 
as  absurd  as  it  was  impertinent : 

"  The  things  in  the  Chapel  nonsense  are, 
Don't  you  think  so  dear  Farrar  /" 

Mr.  Farrar,  however,  never  took  offence  at  such  sallies. 
I  remember,  when  he  was  denouncmg  the  old  "  yellow  back  " 
novels,  murmurs  becoming  audible,  which  were  intended 
to  reach  him,  of  "  Eric  !  Eric  !" — the  title  of  his  early 
school-boy  story — he  only  smiled  in  acknowledgment. 
And  on  an  April  1st  several  boys  who  had  plotted  before- 
hand gazed  simultaneously  and  persistently  at  a  spot  on 
the  ceiling,  until  his  eyes  followed  theirs  unthinkingly 
in  the  same  direction,  when  it  occurred  to  him,  as  nothing 
unusual  was  visible,  that  it  was  All  Fools'  Day.  He  was 
very  playful  and  indulgent;  he  kept  a  "  squash  "  racquet 
ball  on  his  desk,  and  could  throw  it  with  accurate  aim 
if  he  noticed  a  boy  dreaming  or  inattentive.  He  would 
never  when  scoring  the  marks  enter  a  0,  even  after  an 
abject  failure,  always  saying,  "  Give  him  a  charity  1  !" 

Boys  are  quick  judges  of  sermons:  if  interested,  they 
listen  without  an  effort;  if  not  interested,  they  cannot 
listen.  Whenever  Mr.  Farrar's  turn  came  as  preacher  in 
the  School  Chapel  there  was  a  subtle  stir  and  whisper  of 
appreciation,  "  It's  Farrar  to-day."  He  was  a  natural 
orator.  I  can  still  hear  his  magnificent  voice  swelhng  in 
tones   of  passionate   denunciation   decreasing   to   gentle 

8 


114  AN  ENGLISH. MANOR 


appeal,  and  dying  away  in  tender  pathos.  This  was  educa- 
tion in  the  true  sense  of  the  word,  and  though  I  have 
wandered  a  long  way  from  my  immediate  subject,  I  feel 
that  the  digression  is  not  irrelevant  in  contrast  with  the 
mechanical  instruction  that  goes  by  the  name  of  education 
in  the  Board  Schools.  I  cannot  help  recalling  too  that 
in  the  ancient  IVth  Form  Room  at  Harrow,  the  roughest 
of  old  benches  were,  and  I  believe  still  are,  considered  good 
enough  for  future  bishops,  judges,  and  statesmen;  while 
in  the  Board  Schools  expensive  polished  desks  and  seats 
have  to  be  provided  at  the  cost  of  the  ratepayers  to  be 
shortly  kicked  to  pieces  by  hobnailed  shoes. 

I  was  present  at  some  amusing  incidents  in  examinations 
at  our  village  school.  A  small  boy  was  commanded  by  an 
inspector  to  read  aloud,  and  began  in  the  usual  child's 
high-keyed,  expressionless,  and  unpunctuated  monotone: 
"I  -  have  -  six  -  little  -  pigs-two-of  -  them  -  are  -  white  -  two  -  of- 
them-  are-  black-  and-two-of-them-are-spotted."  "  That's 
not  the  way  to  read,"  interposed  the  inspector.  "  Give 
me  the  book."  He  stood  up,  striking  an  attitude,  head 
thrown  well  back,  and  reading  with  great  deliberation 
and  emphasis:  "  I  have  six  little  PIGS;  two  of  them  are 
white!  Two  of  them  are  black!  and  (confidentially)  two 
of  them  are  spottered .'" 

I  once  picked  up  an  elementary  reading  book  in  the  school, 
and  read  as  follows:  "  Tom  said  to  Jack,  '  There  is  a  hay- 
rick doAvn  in  the  meadow;  shall  we  go  and  set  it  on  fire  ?'  " 
And  so  on,  with  an  account  of  the  conflagration,  highly 
coloured.  So  much  for  town  ideas  of  the  education  of 
country  children ;  the  suggestion  was  enough  to  bring  about 
the  catastrophe,  given  the  opportunity  and  a  box  of 
matches. 

Some  of  the  inspectors  were  very  agreeable  men;  they 
occasionally  came  to  luncheon  at  my  house,  and  I  once 
asked  where  the  best-managed  schools  were  to  be  found. 
The  reply  was,  "  In  parishes  where  the  voluntary  schools 
still  exist,  and  the  feudal  system  is  mildly  administered." 
Our  villagers,  reading  of  the  large  sums  that  we  were 


COMPULSORY  EDUCATION  115 


obliged  to  expend  in  response  to  the  requirements  of  the 
Education  Department,  and  finding  the  consequent  rates 
a  burden,  began  to  think  of  economy  and  nothing  but 
economy,  so  that  though  I  had  expected  them  to  be 
only  too  anxious  to  provide  the  very  best  possible 
education  for  their  own  children,  it  came  as  a  surprise 
that  this  was  quite  a  subordinate  aim  to  that  of  keeping 
down  the  cost.  And  this  was  the  more  unexpected,  as 
the  main  cost  fell  upon  the  large  ratepayers,  like  myself 
and  the  railway  company  and  the  owners  of  land  and 
cottages  rented  rate-free.  At  the  next  election  several 
of  these  economists  became  candidates,  with  the  result 
that  many  of  the  original  members  including  myself 
were  not  returned,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  our  well- 
planned  and  well-built  schools  were  erected  at  a  lower  cost 
per  child  than  any  in  the  neighbourhood.  I  was  not  sorry 
to  escape  from  the  monotony  of  listening  to  interminable 
debates  as  to  whether  a  necessary  broom  or  such-like 
trifle  should  be  bought  at  one  shilling  or  one  and  three- 
pence. For  this  was  the  kind  of  subject  that  the  Board 
could  understand  and  liked  to  enlarge  upon,  while  really 
important  proposals  were  carried  with  little  consideration. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  members  of  a  School  Board  are  no 
more  than  dummies  in  the  hands  of  an  inflexible  Depart- 
ment, and  are  appointed  to  carry  out  orders  and  regula- 
tions without  the  power  of  modification,  even  when  quite 
unsuitable  for  a  country  village  school. 

There  was  some  little  excitement  at  the  election;  one  of 
the  members  of  the  old  Board  had  been  called  "  an 
ignoramus,"  in  the  stress  of  battle,  and  being  much  con- 
cerned and  mystified  asked  a  neighbour  what  the  term 
signified,  adding,  no  doubt  thinking  of  a  hippopotamus, 
that  he  believed  it  was  some  kind  of  animal !  His  know- 
ledge of  zoology  was  probably  as  limited  as  that  disclosed 
by  the  following  story : 

A  menagerie  was  on  view  at  Evesham,  to  the  great  joy 
of  many  juveniles  as  well  as  older  people,  for  such  exhibi- 
tions were  not  very  common  in  the  town.     Very  early 


116  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

next  morning,  a  farmer,  living  about  two  miles  from  Alding- 
ton, was  awakened  by  a  shower  of  small  stones  on  his  bed- 
room window.  Looking  out  he  saw  his  shepherd  in  much 
excitement  and  alarm.  "  Oh  master,  master,  there's  a 
beast  with  two  tails,  one  in  front  and  one  behind,  a-puUin' 
up  the  mangolds,  and  a-eatin'  of  'em  !"  The  farmer  hurried 
to  the  spot  and  saw  an  African  elephant  which  had  escaped 
during  the  night;  he  was  wondering  how  to  proceed  when 
two  keepers  appeared  and  the  strange  beast  was  led 
quietly  back  to  the  town. 

As  chairman  of  our  School  Board  I  early  recognized 
among  the  members  discoverers  of  mare's-nests,  who 
lost  no  opportunity  of  exhibiting  their  own  importance 
by  intruding  such  matters  into  the  already  overflowing 
agenda,  and  my  method  of  dealing  with  them  was  so 
successful,  though  I  believe  not  original,  that  it  may  be 
found  useful  by  those  called  upon  to  preside  over  any  of 
the  multitudinous  councils  now  in  existence.  Whenever 
the  member  produced  his  cherished  discovery — generally 
very  shadowy  as  to  detail — I  proposed  the  appointment 
of  a  subcommittee,  consisting  of  him  and  his  sympathizers, 
to  inquire  into  the  matter,  and  report  at  the  next  Board 
meeting.  In  this  way  I  shunted  the  bother  of  the  investiga- 
tion of  usually  some  trifle  or  unsubstantiated  opinion  on  to 
his  own  shoulders,  so  that,  when  he  realized  the  time  and 
trouble  involved,  he  became  much  less  interested,  and  we 
heard  very  little  more  of  the  subject. 

I  suppose  that  everybody  living  in  a  country  parish, 
who  can  look  back  over  the  period  of  fifty  years  of  com- 
pulsory education,  would  agree  that  the  results  are  in- 
significant in  comparison  with  the  effort,  and  one  cannot 
help  wondering  whether,  after  all,  they  justify  the  gigantic 
cost.  We  appear  to  have  tried  to  build  too  quickly  on 
an  insecure  foundation.  Nature  produces  no  permanent 
work  in  a  hurry,  and  Art  is  a  blind  leader  unless  she  sub- 
mits to  Nature's  laws.  The  pace  has  been  too  great,  and 
the  fabric  which  we  have  reared  is  already  showing  the 
defects  in  its  construction. 


COMPULSORY  EDUCATION  117 

How  otherwise  can  we  account  for  the  littleness  of  the 
men  representing  "  the  people,"  who  have  been  rushed  into 
the  big  positions,  and  for  the  vulgarity  of  the  present  age  ? 
Vulgarity  in  public  worship;  vulgarity  in  the  manners, 
the  speeches,  and  the  ideals  of  the  House  of  Commons; 
vulgarity  in  "  literature,"  on  the  stage,  in  music,  in  the 
studio,  and  in  a  section  of  the  Press;  vulgarity  in  building 
and  the  desecration  of  beautiful  places;  vulgarity  in  form 
and  colour  of  dress  and  decoration.  We  are  far  behind  the 
design  and  construction  of  the  domestic  furniture  of  150 
years  ago,  and  we  have  never  equalled  the  architecture 
of  the  earliest  periods,  for  stability  and  stateliness. 

The  skim  milk  seems  to  have  come  to  the  top  and  the 
cream  has  gone  to  the  bottom,  as  the  result  of  the  con- 
travention of  the  laws  of  evolution,  and  the  failure  to 
perceive  the  analogy  between  the  simplest  methods  of 
agriculture,  and  the  cultivation  of  mentality.  We  have 
expected  fruit  and  flowers  from  waste  and  unfilled  soil; 
we  sowed  the  seed  of  instruction  without  even  ploughing 
the  land,  or  eradicating  the  prominent  weeds,  and  we  are 
reaping  a  crop  of  thistles  where  we  looked  for  figs,  and 
thorns  where  we  looked  for  grapes.  The  seed  scattered  so 
lavishly  by  the  wayside  was  devoured  by  the  fowls  of  the 
air;  that  which  was  sown  upon  the  stony  places,  where 
there  was  not  much  earth,  could  not  withstand  the  heat 
of  summer;  and  that  which  fell  among  thorns  was  choked 
by  the  unconquered  possessors  of  the  field.  A  little,  a  very 
little,  which  "fell  into  good  ground  brought  forth  fruit, 
some  an  hundredfold,  some  sixtyfold,  some  thirtyfold  "  ; 
and  therein  lies  our  only  consolation. 

The  educational  enthusiasts  of  1870  forgot  that  the 
material  they  had  to  work  upon  did  not  come  from  in- 
herited refinement  and  intelligence;  that  it  was  evolved 
from  a  parentage  content  with  a  vocabulary  of  some  500 
words;  that  there  was  little  nobility  of  home  influence  to 
assist  in  the  process  of  development:  they  crammed  it 
with  matter  which  it  could  not  assimilate,  they  took  it 
from  the  open  country  air  and  the  sunshine   confined  it  in 


118  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


close  and  crowded  school-rooms,  and  produced  what  we 
see  everywhere  at  the  present  time,  at  the  cost  of  physical 
deterioration — a  diseased  and  unsettled  mentality. 

I  am  aware  that  there  are  those  who  decline  to  admit 
any  influence  of  mental  heredity,  and  argue  that  environ- 
ment is  the  only  factor  to  be  considered.  In  a  clever  and 
well-reasoned  work  on  the  subject  I  lately  read,  this 
proposition  was  substantiated  by  instances  observable 
especially  among  birds  brought  up  in  unnatural  conditions. 
The  writer,  however,  entirely  forgot  the  most  conclusive 
piece  of  evidence  in  favour  of  mental  heredity  which  it  is 
possible  to  adduce — namely,  that  of  the  brood  of  duck- 
lings, who,  in  spite  of  the  unmistakable  manifestations  of 
alarm  on  the  part  of  a  frantic  foster-mother  hen,  take  to  the 
water  and  enjoy  it  on  the  very  first  opportunity. 


CHAPTER  X 

VILLAGE  INSTITUTIONS:  CRICKET— FOOTBALL— FLOWER 
SHOW— BAND— POSTMAN— CONCERTS 

"  There  is  sweet  music  here  that  softer  falls 
Than  petals  from  blown  roses  on  the  grass." 

The  Lotus-Eaters. 

Among  village  institutions  a  cricket  club  was  started  soon 
after  I  first  came,  and  I  was  able  to  lend  a  meadow  in 
which  the  members  could  play.  I  held  the  sinecure  office 
of  President.  The  members  met,  discussed  ways  and 
means,  drew  up  regulations,  and  instituted  fines  for  various 
delinquencies.  Swearing  was  expensive  at  threepence  each 
time,  but  there  was  no  definition  of  what  were  to  be  con- 
sidered "  swear  words."  Locally,  a  usual  expletive  is, 
"  daazz  it,"  or,  "  I'll  be  daazzed,"  and  it  was  not  long 
before  a  member  making  use  of  this  euphemism  was  accused 
of  swearing.  He  protested  that  it  was  not  recognized  by 
philological  authorities  as  coming  under  the  category, 
but  he  had  to  pay  up. 

A  village  cricket  match  was  regarded  more  as  a  contest 
than  a  pastime;  each  side  feared  the  censure  of  his  parish, 
if  conquered,  so  nothing  had  to  be  given  away  likely  to  prove 
an  advantage  to  an  opposing  team.  I  once  saw  a  member 
snatch  a  bat  belonging  to  his  own  club  from  one  of  the 
other  side  who  was  about  to  appropriate  it  for  his  innings 
with,  "  No  you  don't."  How  different  is  the  feeling,  and 
how  ready  to  help,  a  member  of  a  really  sporting  team 
would  have  been  in  similar  circumstances  !  Referring  to 
help  or  advice  in  cricket  matters,  a  story  is  told  of  the  late 
Dr.  W.  G.  Grace.  The  incident  happened  in  an  adjoining 
county  to  Worcestershire.  The  great  batsman,  crossing 
Clifton  Down,  came  upon  some  boys  at  cricket.  Three 
sticks  represented  the  wickets,   arranged  so  wide  apart 

,    119 


120  ^A^  ENGLISH  MANOR 

that  the  ball  could  pass  through  without  disturbing  them. 
Ever  ready  to  help,  Dr.  Grace  pointed  out  the  fault  and 
readjusted  the  sticks;  as  he  turned  away  he  heard,  "  What 
does  'e  know  about  it,  I  wonder  !" 

This  carries  me  to  a  parallel  happening  at  Stratford-on- 
Avon.  The  late  Sir  Henry  Irving  and  a  friend  fell  in  with 
a  native  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  and  being  anxious  to 
test  the  local  reputation  of  the  poet  asked  the  man  if  he 
had  heard  of  a  person  named  Shakespeare.  The  man 
assented  and  volunteered  the  information  that  he  was  a 
writer.  Did  he  "  know  what  Shakespeare  had  written  ?" 
Their  informant  could  not  say,  but,  a  moment  after  they 
had  parted,  he  called  back  that  he  believed  he  had  Aviitten 
*'  part  of  the  Bible." 

An  ancient  villager,  who  was  secretary  of  our  Club  and 
always  acted  as  umpire,  gave  me  "out,"  incorrectly,  for 
accidentally  touching  the  wicket  when  the  ball  was 
"  dead."  I  retired  without  contesting  his  decision,  as  I 
had  been  taught.  Next  time  we  met  he  apologized,  having 
discovered  his  mistake,  but  he  was  greatly  impressed  by 
my  practical  example  of  "  playing  the  game." 

Cricket,  though  popular  in  my  first  years  at  Aldington, 
gradually  became  difficult  to  arrange.  As  the  market- 
garden  industry  superseded  farming,  the  young  men 
found  full  employment  for  the  long  summer  evenings  on 
their  allotments  and  those  of  their  parents.  In  the  winter, 
when  horticultural  work  is  not  so  pressing,  they  had  plenty 
of  time  on  their  hands,  and  a  football  club  was  formed. 
It  flourished  exceedingly,  and  Badsey  became  almost  in- 
vincible among  the  neighbouring  villages  and  even  against 
the  towns.  They  distinguished  themselves  in  the  local 
League  matches,  and  on  one  occasion,  something  like  two 
thousand  spectators  assembled  to  witness  a  final  which 
Badsey  won,  in  the  meadow  I  lent  them;  and  I  had  the 
honour  of  presiding  at  a  grand  dinner  to  celebrate  the  event. 
I  notice  in  the  local  papers  that  in  spite  of  the  interruption 
of  the  war  they  are  now  again  thriving  and  earning  new 
laurels. 


FLOWER  SHOW  121 

Our  most  important  fete  day  was  that  upon  which  the 
Badsey,  Aldington,  and  Wiekhamford  Flower  Show  was 
held.  The  credit,  for  the  original  inception  and  organiza- 
tion of  this  popular  festival,  is  almost  entirely  due,  I  think, 
to  the  public  spirit  and  determination  of  my  old  friend  and 
co-churchwarden,  Mr.  Julius  Sladden,  of  Badsey,  and  it 
gives  me  much  pleasure  to  record  the  debt  of  gratitude 
which  the  three  villages  still  owe  him. 

The  Show  is  held  as  nearly  as  possible  on  the  day  of 
the  ancient  Badsey  wake,  in  most  parishes  still  celebrated 
on  the  day  of  the  patron  saint.  In  the  case  of  Badsey 
the  anniversary  of  the  wake  is  the  25th  of  July  (St.  James's 
day).  As  a  wake  Badsey's  observance  is  a  thing  of  the 
past;  it  was  formerly  a  time  of  much  cider-drinking,  a 
meeting-day  for  friends  and  relations,  and  for  various 
trials  of  strength  and  skill,  though  I  believe  the  carousals 
outlasted  the  sports  by  many  years. 

Nothing  happier,  in  the  way  of  a  revival,  and  more 
civilized  enjoyment,  could  have  been  devised  than  a 
flower  show,  and  it  is  now  one  of  the  most  popular  fixtures 
of  the  neighbourhood  with  exceedingly  keen  competition. 
Besides  fruit,  flowers,  and  vegetables,  the  exhibits  include 
such  produce  as  butter  and  eggs,  and  my  wife  was  very 
successful  with  these,  but  on  one  occasion  was  rather  dis- 
appointed to  find  a  beautiful  dish  of  Langshan  eggs, 
almost  preternaturally  brown  and  rich-looking,  disqualified. 
The  judges  were  not  acquainted  with  the  peculiarities  of  the 
breed — then  a  new  one — and  the  reason  for  disqualifica- 
tion, as  we  afterwards  discovered,  was  "  artificially 
coloured."  I  believe  exhibitors  have  been  kno^vn  to  use 
coffee  for  this  purpose,  and  the  judges,  who  had  not  the 
exhibitors'  names  before  them,  fancied  this  to  be  an 
instance. 

The  children's  exhibits  of  wild  flower  bouquets  I  always 
considered  at  this  and  similar  shows  far  the  most  interest- 
ing and  beautiful  among  the  flowers;  but,  unfortunately, 
they  very  soon  droop  in  a  hot  tent  and  look  rather  un- 
happy. 


122  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


Aldington  Band  was  the  outcome  of  a  desire  for  musical 
expression  on  the  part  of  a  few  parishioners  with  some 
skill  and  experience  in  such  matters;  it  included  performers 
on  wind  instruments  and  a  big  drum.  The  Band  was 
unfortunate  at  first  in  purchasing  instruments  of  differing 
pitch,  as  was  discovered  by  my  wife  on  attending  a  practice 
at  the  request  of  the  members.  She  pointed  out  the  fault, 
and  found  an  instructor  from  Evesham  to  give  them  a 
course  of  lessons,  so  that  with  a  new  set  of  instruments 
they  soon  improved.  It  was  difficult,  at  first,  to  find  a 
suitable  place  for  practice.  A  neighbour,  a  little  doubtful 
as  to  their  attainments,  suggested  the  railway  arch  in  one 
of  my  meadows  as  a  nice  airy  spot  under  cover,  but  later 
expressed  doubts  as  to  the  safety  of  the  trains  running 
overhead  on  account  of  the  violence  of  the  commotion 
beneath  !  This,  of  course,  was  mere  chaff,  for  they  soon 
became  so  efficient  that  a  large  room  was  found  for  them 
in  the  village,  and  eventually  they  were  annually  engaged 
to  perform  the  musical  programme  at  the  Badsey,  Alding- 
ton, and  Wickhamford  Flower  Show.  My  gardener  was 
the  leading  spirit  of  the  Band,  a  great  optimist  and  the  most 
willing  man  of  any  who  ever  reigned  in  my  garden.  There 
was  nothing  he  would  not  cheerfully  undertake,  and 
when  we  had  a  difficulty  in  finding  a  sweep  as  required, 
he  volunteered  for  the  work  and  became  quite  an 
adept,  with  the  set  of  rods  and  brushes  I  bought  for  the 
purpose. 

Our  postman,  though  not  a  villager,  was  quite  an  in- 
stitution; he  walked  a  matter  of  ten  miles  a  day  from 
Evesham  to  Bretforton,  taking  Aldington  and  Badsey 
on  the  way,  and  back  at  night.  He  filled  up  the  interval 
between  the  incoming  and  outgoing  posts  at  Bretforton, 
working  at  his  trade  as  tailor.  Entering  our  village  each 
evening,  he  annomiced  his  arrival  by  three  blasts  on  his 
tin  horn;  he  was  very  shy  of  being  observed  in  this  per- 
formance, and  the  people  had  to  catch  him  as  he  passed 
and  hand  him  their  letters.  He  must  have  walked  nearly 
100,000  miles  in  the  niany  years  he  was  our  postman. 


CONCERTS  128 


and  he  told  me  before  I  left  that  more  letters  were  ad- 
dressed to  the  Manor  when  I  first  came,  than  to  all  the 
rest  of  the  houses  in  the  village  together.  When  corre- 
spondence became  more  general  a  pillar-box  was  erected, 
but  I  always  regretted  the  loss  of  the  familiar  notes  of  the 
tin  horn. 

Among  Aldington's  amusements  no  account  would  be 
complete  without  a  reference  to  the  numerous  concerts 
and  entertainments  for  charitable  objects  which  my 
wife  organized,  and  in  which  her  musical  talent  enabled  her 
to  take  a  prominent  part;  and  although  I  feel  some 
hesitation  in  dealing  with  so  personal  a  matter,  I  am 
certain  that  many  of  those  who  co-operated  with  her  in  the 
organization  and  the  performance  of  these  affairs  will  be 
pleased  to  have  their  recollections  of  her  own  part  in  them 
revived. 

She  possessed  a  natural  soprano  voice  of  great  sweetness 
and  flexibility,  in  combination  with  the  sympathetic 
ability  and  clear  enunciation  which  add  so  much  to  the 
charm  of  vocal  expression.  She  was  not  allowed  to  begin 
singing,  in  earnest,  before  she  was  nineteen,  for  fear  of 
straining  so  delicate  a  voice,  and  she  then  had  the  advantage 
of  the  tuition  of  Signor  Caravoglia,  one  of  the  most  cele- 
brated teachers  of  the  time. 

His  method  included  deliberation  in  taking  breath, 
thorough  opening  of  the  mouth,  practice  before  a  mirror 
to  produce  a  pleasing  effect,  and  to  avoid  facial  contor- 
tion; he  would  not  allow  any  visible  effort,  the  aim  being 
to  sing  as  naturally  and  spontaneously  as  a  bird.  His 
wife  played  the  accompaniments,  so  that  the  master  could 
give  his  whole  attention  to  the  attitude,  production,  and 
facial  expression  of  the  pupil. 

Signor  Caravoglia  only  consented  to  teach  her  on  the 
express  condition  that  she  would  not  sing  in  choruses, 
on  account  of  the  danger  of  strain  and  overexertion. 
She  practised  regularly,  chiefly  exercises,  two  hours  a  day 
in  separate  half  hours.  Her  talent  was  soon  recognized 
at  Malvern,  where  she  lived  before  her  marriage,  and  her 


124  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

assistance  was  in  great  demand  for  amateur  charity 
concerts. 

I  have  a  book  full  of  newspaper  reports  of  my  wife's 
performances,  containing  notices  of  concerts  at  Malvern 
repeatedly,  Kidderminster,  Worcester,  at  Birmingham 
under  the  auspices  of  the  Musical  Section  of  the  Midland 
Institute — a  very  great  honour  before  a  highly  critical 
audience — Alcester,  Pershore,  Moreton-in-the-Marsh,  Eves- 
ham, Broadway,  Badscy,  Wallingford,  and  a  great  many 
villages  in  the  Evesham  district.  At  Moreton  she  sang 
for  the  local  Choral  Society,  taking  the  soprano  solos  in 
the  first  part  of  Haydn's  Spring,  and  the  local  paper 
reported  that  her  "  birdlike  voice  added  much  to  the 
beauty  of  the  cantata."  In  the  second  part  of  the  concert 
she  gave  The  Bird  that  came  in  Spring,  by  Sterndale 
Bennett.  I  was  always  a  little  nervous  during  this  song 
in  anticipation  of  the  upper  C  towards  the  finale,  but  it 
never  failed  to  come  true  and  brilliant.  As  we  were  leaving 
by  train  the  following  morning  we  met  a  dear  old  musician 
who  had  taken  part  in  the  chorus  of  the  cantata.  He 
begged  to  be  introduced  to  her,  and  said  in  his  hearty 
congratulations  on  her  performance,  that  never  before  had 
such  a  note  been  heard  in  Moreton. 

At  one  of  the  Broadway  concerts  my  wife  had  the  plea- 
sure of  meeting  Miss  Maude  Valerie  White,  who  was  play- 
ing the  accompaniments  for  performers  of  her  own  com- 
positions, including  The  Devout  Lover,  which,  she  told  Miss 
White,  she  considered  one  of  the  best  songs  in  the  English 
language,  at  the  same  time  asking  for  her  autograph. 
Miss  White  was  kmd  enough  to  write  her  signature  with 
the  MS.  music  of  the  first  phrase — notes  and  words — of 
the  song  in  a  book  which  my  wife  kept  for  the  autographs 
of  distinguished  musicians  and  celebrated  people. 

While  at  Malvern  my  wife  once  heard  Jenny  Lind  in 
public,  and  she  describes  it  as  a  most  memorable  occasion. 
Jenny  Lind  had  for  some  years  retired  from  public  per- 
formance, but  consented  to  reappear  at  the  request  of  a 
deputation  of    railway  employees  anxious  to  arrange  a 


CONCERTS  125 


conceit  in  aid  of  the  widows  and  orphans  of  officials 
killed  in  a  recent  railway  accident.  She  stipulated  that 
she  should  sing  in  two  duets  only,  choosing  the  other  voice 
herself,  and  she  selected  Miss  Hilda  Wilson,  the  well- 
known  contralto  of  that  time. 

They  sang  two  duets  by  Rubinstein,  one  being  The  Song 
of  the  Summer  Birds,  full  of  elaborate  execution.  Her  voice 
was  so  true,  sweet  and  flexible,  trilling  and  warbling  like 
a  bird,  and  taking  the  A  fiat  as  a  climax  of  delight  at- 
the  conclusion  with  the  greatest  ease,  that  with  closed 
eyes  it  might  have  been  taken  for  the  effort  of  a  young 
girl. 

Jenny  Lind  was  over  seventy  at  the  time;  she  was  erect, 
tall,  and  graceful;  she  wore  a  black  dress  with  a  good  deal 
of  white  lace,  and  a  white  lace  cap.  She  was  then  Madame 
OttoGoldschmidt,  living  at  the  Wynd's  Point  on  the  Here- 
fordshire Beacon  of  the  Malvern  Range,  and  had  long  been 
known  as  the  "  Swedish  Nightingale." 


CHAPTER  XI 

DEALERS  — LUCK  MONEY  —  FAIRS  —  SALES  —  EFFECT  OF 
CLIMATE  ON  CATTLE  AND  SHEEP— AGRICULTURAL  SHOWS 

"  I'll  give  thiice  so  much  land 
To  any  well-deserving  friend ; 
But  in  the  way  of  bargain,  mark  ye  me, 
I'll  cavil  on  the  ninth  part  of  a  hair." 

1  Henry  IV. 

Dealers  of  all  kinds  were  much  more  frequent  callers  at 
farm-houses  in  the  early  days  of  my  farming,  than  latterly 
when  auction  sales,  to  some  extent,  superseded  private 
negotiations,  but  the  horse-dealer  remained  constant, 
because  comparatively  few  horses  were  offered  by  auction. 
The  horse-dealers  appeared  to  conform  to  an  understand- 
ing that  it  was  a  breach  of  etiquette  to  exceed  certain 
well-marked  boundaries  in  their  search  for  purchases, 
or  to  interfere  in  each  other's  business.  This  principle 
was  carried  so  far  as  to  prevent  dealers  from  one  of  these 
"  countries  "  purchasing  a  horse  at  a  fair  coming  from 
another  dealer's  "country,"  and  the  understanding  of 
course  minimized  competition  likely  to  raise  the  price. 
The  dealers  however  I  think,  gave  fair  values,  governed 
for  the  most  part  by  the  prices  obtainable  by  them  in  the 
large  towns. 

Most  of  my  horses,  when  for  sale,  were  bought  by  a  man 
in  a  considerable  way  of  business,  a  well-known  breeder, 
too,  of  shire  horses,  taking  many  prizes  at  the  leading 
shows.  A  handsome  man  with  a  presence,  and  an  excel- 
lent judge,  shrewd  but  straight.  He  would  ask  the  price 
after  examining  the  animal,  and  make  an  offer  which 
he  would  very  seldom  exceed  if  refused  at  first;  but  he 
would  spend  some  time  in  conversation,  apparently  quite 
irrelevant  and  very  amusing,  though  always  returning  to 

126 


DEALERS  127 


the   point  at  intervals  with  arguments  in  favour   of  the 
acceptanee  of  his  bid.      He  was  so  genial  and  pleasant 
and  such  good  company,  for  no   man  was  ever  better 
acquainted  with  the  ways   of   the   world,  that    he    very 
rarely,  I  think,  left  the  premises  without  a  deal,  though 
sometimes  he  was  in  his  gig  before  the  final  bargain  was 
struck.     It  is    a   custom  of  the  trade   for   the  seller   to 
give   something   back   to  the   buyer    by   way   of    "  luck 
money,"  and  the  last  time  I  did  business  with  him  I  re- 
fused to  give  more  than  one  shilling  each  on  two  horses,  as 
I  never  received  more  than  that  sum  when  a  buyer  myself. 
He  accepted  cheerfully,  telling  me  that  a  shilling  each  was 
quite  worth  taking,  as  he  had  a  thousand  horses  through 
his  hands  in  the  course  of  every  twelve  months,  and  that  a 
thousand  shillings  meant  £50  a  year. 

The  best  piece  of  horse-dealing  I  ever  did,  was  the  pur- 
chase of  a  six  months  old  colt  for  £26,  winning  £20  in 
prizes  with  him  as  a  two-year-old,  working  him  regularly 
at  three  and  four  on  the  farm,  and  selling  him  at  five 
for  eighty  guineas  to  a  large  brewery  firm.  Eighty  guineas 
in  those  days  was  a  big  price  for  a  cart  horse,  though,  of 
course,  in  modern  times,  owing  to  the  war,  much  higher 
prices  can  be  obtained. 

I  remember  another  dealer,  who,  a  notable  figure  in  a 
white  top  hat  with  a  deep  black  band,  and  large  coloured 
spectacles,  was  to  be  seen  at  all  the  fairs  and  principal 
sales.  He,  too,  had  an  ingratiating  manner,  and  would 
accost  a  young  farmer  with  a  hearty,  "  Good-morning, 
Squire,"  or  some  such  flattering  introduction.  A  wise 
dealer  always  knows  how  to  keep  up  amicable  relations 
with  a  possible  seller  or  buyer,  and  never  descends  to 
abuse,  or  the  assumption  of  a  personal  injury  if  he  cannot 
persuade  a  seller  to  accept  his  price,  as  is  the  case  with  some 
dealers  with  less  savoir  faire. 

A  successful  cattle  dealer  I  knew  had  similar  tactics 
of  fraternity,  always  addressing  his  sellers  as  "  Governor," 
with  marked  respect.  But  the  best  instance  of  this 
diplomatic  spirit  occurred  in  the  case  of  a  deal  between 


128  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

an  old  Hampshire  friend  of  mine  and  a  well-known  and 
historic  sheep  dealer  from  the  same  county.  My  friend 
had  lately  become  the  happy  father  of  twins,  the  fact  being 
widely  known  in  the  neighbourhood,  for  he  was  a  very 
prominent  man.  He  had  100  sheep  for  sale,  and  the  dealer 
was  inspecting  them,  in  a  pen  near  the  house.  As  the  bar- 
gain proceeded,  the  front  door  opened,  and  a  nurse-maid 
appeared  with  the  twins  in  their  perambulator.  The 
dealer  noticed  them  immediately,  and  was  not  slow  to  turn 
the  incident  to  his  advantage.  "  There  they  be,  there  they 
be,  the  little  darlings,"  he  called  out,  "  a  sovereign  apiece 
nurse,  a  sovereign  apiece."  Diving  into  a  capacious  pocket, 
he  pulled  out  a  handful  of  gold  and  silver,  and  selecting 
two  sovereigns  he  handed  them  to  the  nurse  for  the  chil- 
dren. "  After  that,"  my  friend  said,  "  what  could  I  do 
but  sell  him  the  sheep,  though  he  got  them  at  two  shillings 
a  head  less  than  I  ought  to  have  made."  Now  two  shil- 
lings a  head,  on  one  hundred  sheep,  represents  ten  pounds, 
leaving  eight  pounds  which  the  dealer  earned  by  his  keen 
insight  into  human  nature. 

This  dealer  carried  on  business  with  a  brother,  and  they 
were  to  be  seen  for  very  many  years  at  all  the  large  Hamp- 
shire summer  sheep  fairs,  where  indeed,  sometimes,  when 
prices  were  rising,  they  owned  nearly  all  the  sheep  offered 
for  sale,  having  bought  them  up  beforehand.  As  in  a 
favourable  summer  when  there  was  plenty  of  keep  and  a 
good  prospect  of  abundant  roots  prices  would  rise  as  much 
as  10s.  a  head  during  the  months  of  the  big  fairs,  and  as  at 
a  single  fair  as  many  as  30,000  sheep  would  be  for  sale, 
the  chances  of  profit  offered  to  the  courageous  dealer  with 
capital  are  manifest. 

Though  risen  from  small  beginnings,  these  brothers 
amassed  considerable  fortunes,  all  of  which,  it  was  said, 
they  invested  in  real  estate,  so  that  they  were  known  at 
one  time  to  be  worth  at  least  £100,000;  and,  as  they 
continued  in  business  for  some  years  after  the  time  of 
which  I  am  writing,  they  must  have  exceeded  that 
sum  considerably  as  a  total,  though  the  values  of  land 


LUCK  MONEY  129 


began    to    fall    away  towards   the   end    of  their    active 
existence. 

The  more  energetic  of  the  two  used  very  original  phrases, 
in  which  he  extolled  the  physical  virtues  of  flocks  he  had  to 
sell;  referring  to  their  size,  he  would  say,  "  Just  look  at 
their  backs  !  look  at  their  backs  !  they  be  as  long  as  a  wet 
Sunday  !"  Watching  him,  you  could  see  that  while  giving 
full  attention  to  his  customer,  and  keeping  him  in  a  good 
humour  with  pleasant  chat,  while  a  bargain  was  proceed- 
ing, his  glance  perpetually  wandered  to  the  moving  crowd 
around  the  pens,  and  that  he  had  not  only  eyes,  but  ears, 
open  to  catch  any  impression  bearing  on  the  progress  of  the 
general  trade.  He  knew  everybody,  and  intuition  told 
him  upon  what  business  they  were  present. 

These  two  dealers  combined  money-lending  with  sheep- 
dealing;  if  a  buyer  had  not  the  ready  cash  they  would  give 
credit  for  the  purchase  price,  the  sheep  forming  the  security; 
it  being  understood  that  when  they  were  again  for  sale  the 
lenders  should  have  the  selling  of  them  on  commission. 

Speaking  of  horse-dealers  I  referred  to  the  custom  of 
giving  "  luck  money,"  otherwise  called  "  chap  money." 
The  word  "  chap  "  takes  its  derivation  from  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  ceap  price  or  bargain,  and  ceapean,  to  bargain, 
whence  come  the  words  "chop,"  to  exchange;  "cheap," 
"  Cheapside,"  "  Mealcheapen  Street  "  in  Worcester, 
"  cheapjack,"  etc.  Also,  the  prefix  in  the  names  of  market 
towns,  such  as  Chipping  Campden,  Chipping  Norton,  etc. 
There  is  a  curious  place-name  here  in  Burley,  New  Forest, 
where  I  am  now  living,  spelt  "  Shappen,"  which  puzzled 
me  until  I  chanced  to  meet  with  an  ancient  print  of  a  village 
merry-making,  with  dancing  and  a  May-pole  and  found 
that  the  name  Shappen  applied  especially  to  the  spot,  and 
that  not  far  away  the  Forest  ponies  and  cattle  were 
formerly  penned  for  sale  at  an  annual  fair  in  a  lane,  still 
called  Pound  Lane  "  Pound  "  is  from  the  Anglo-Saxon 
pund,  a  fold  or  inclosure.  Shappen  is  evidently,  therefore, 
derived  from  ceap  (and  possibly  puiid)  as  a  place  in  which 
bargains  were  struck,  and  the  name  testifies  to  the  extreme 

9 


130  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

antiquity  of  the  New  Forest  pony  and  cattle  fair  formerly 
held  there. 

There  are  several  notable  horse  fairs  still  held  near 
Evesham.  Besides  the  one  at  Pershore,  already  mentioned, 
the  most  important  fairs  are  held  at  Stow-on-the-Wold  and 
Shipston-on-Stour,  both  very  out-of-the-way  places;  and 
many  stories  of  the  wiles  of  horse-copers  were  related  in 
connection  therewith.  I  remember  the  following  told  as 
occurring  at  Stow-on-the-Wold.  A  man  approached  a 
simple-looking  young  farmer,  and  getting  into  conversation 
with  him,  pointed  out  a  horse  not  far  off,  telling  him  that 
he  had  quarrelled  with  the  owner  who  refused  in  conse- 
quence to  sell  him  the  horse  which  he  wished  to  buy.  He 
promised  the  farmer  £2  if  he  would  undertake  the  negotia- 
tion, and  could  buy  the  horse  for  £10.  The  farmer  agreed, 
and  after  some  apparent  difficulty  succeeded  in  effecting 
the  purchase  at  the  sum  named,  paid  the  money  and 
returned  with  the  horse  to  the  place  where  he  had  left  his 
acquaintance.  The  latter,  however,  had  disappeared,  and 
after  searching  the  fair  from  one  end  to  the  other,  the 
farmer  took  back  the  horse,  to  repudiate  the  bargain. 
The  owner  had  also  vanished,  and  the  farmer  found  him- 
self with  an  ancient  screw,  which  eventually  he  was  glad 
to  get  rid  of  at  a  pound  a  leg,  losing  £6  on  the  deal. 

There  are  small  pig-dealers,  in  almost  every  village,  on 
the  lookout  for  bargains,  and  very  cute  men  they  generally 
are.  One  of  these  well-known  at  Aldington,  though 
nearly  blind,  could  tell  the  points  and  value  of  any  pig  in 
a  marvellous  way  almost  by  intuition;  it  was  said  of  him 
that,  "  though  blind,  he  was  a  better  judge  of  a  pig  than 
most  folks  with  their  eyes  open." 

At  farm  and  other  auction  sales  there  are  always  anxious 
buyers  who  make  a  practice  of  trying  to  depreciate 
("  crabbing,"  as  it  is  called)  any  article  or  property  they 
particularly  wish  to  purchase,  by  making  damaging  state- 
ments or  insinuations  to  anybody  whom,  they  fear,  is 
also  a  probable  buyer.  At  a  sale  of  cottage  property 
adjoining  a  public-house,  in  a  village  not  far  from  Aiding- 


SALES  131 

ton,  a  keen  purchaser  remarked  that  there  was  no  water  on 
the  premises.  The  auctioneer,  however,  knowing  that  water 
was  not  his  man's  strong  point,  immediately  repHed,  "  Oh, 
never  mind  the  water,  sir,  there's  plenty  of  whisky  to  be 
had  next  door."  At  another  property  sale,  the  tenant  of 
the  house  on  offer,  gratuitously  informed  me  that  the  roof 
was  in  a  very  bad  state;  knowing  my  man,  I  was  not  sur- 
prised when  the  house  was  knocked  down  to  him,  but  I 
never  saw  any  repairs  to  the  roof  in  progress  afterwards. 

A  friend  of  mine  had  a  caretaker  in  an  empty  house, 
and,  finding  that  no  applications  to  view  ever  got  beyond 
that  stage,  called  at  the  house  with  his  wife,  ostensibly 
as  intending  tenants.  He  was  not  personally  known  to 
the  caretaker,  and  on  making  the  usual  inquiries,  found 
the  man  by  no  means  enthusiastic  as  to  the  amenities  of 
the  place,  and  particularly  doubtful  as  to  the  drainage, 
so  much  so  as  to  make  it  plain  that  any  otherwise  likely 
tenant  would  be  repelled.  Knowing  that  all  the  sanitary 
arrangements  were  in  perfect  order,  he  disclosed  his 
identity,  much  to  the  dismay  of  the  caretaker  who,  of 
course,  was  dismissed. 

The  person  who  asks  damaging  questions  of  the  auctioneer 
or  solicitor  at  a  property  sale,  though  perhaps  not  declared 
the  buyer  on  the  fall  of  the  hammer,  not  infrequently 
proves  later  to  have  been  so,  having  employed  an  agent 
to  bid  for  him. 

At  a  sale  of  farm  stock  and  implements  I  was  examining 
a  waggon  practically  new,  though  with  no  intention  of 
buying,  when  I  was  surprised  by  a  cousin  of  the  vendor 
volunteering  the  statement  that,  having  lately  borrowed 
the  waggon,  he  noticed  one  of  the  wheels  giving  out  a 
suspicious  noise  when  in  use,  as  if  something  were  wrong. 
This  was  a  particularly  bad  case  of  "  crabbing,"  as  the 
man  eventually  became  the  purchaser  at  a  high  price- 
It  is  an  alarming  sensation  to  see  one's  name  on  a  waggon 
for  the  first  time,  especially  when  the  vehicle  has  been 
wholly  repainted  in  blue  or  yellow  to  represent  the  owner's 
supposed  political  tendencies,  for  such  was  the  custom  in 


132  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


Worcestershire;  but  perhaps  one's  name,  address,  and  crest 
on  a  hop-pocket  is  more  alarming  still,  when  we  remember 
that  twenty  or  more  of  these  pockets,  all  marked  alike, 
will  form  each  of  several  loads  to  be  carted  from  a  London 
railway  station  to  the  Borough,  the  seat  of  the  hop-trade, 
on  the  way  to  the  factor's  warehouses,  for  all  beholders 
to  "read,  mark,  learn,  and  inwardly  digest." 

In  the  delightful  and  now  somewhat  rare  book  Talpa;  or. 
The  Chronicles  of  a  Clay  Farm,  by  Chandos  Wren  Hoskins, 
one  of  the  few  agricultural  works  ever  written  by  a  scholar, 
he  refers  to  his  first  experience  of  this  sort,  when  speaking 
of  his  difficulty  in  making  up  his  mind  as  to  whether  he 
should  let  the  property  into  which  he  had  just  come  by 
inheritance,  or  occupy  it  himself,  as  follows:  "What  was 
to  be  done  ?  Apostatize  from  all  the  promises  and  vows 
made  from  my  youth  up,  and  take  it  in  Iiand — that  is,  in  a 
bailiff's  hand,  which  certain  foregone  experiences  had  led 
me  to  conceive  was  of  all  things  the  most  out  of  hand  (if  that 
may  be  called  so,  which  empties  the  hand  and  the  pocket 
too).  Such  seemed  the  only  alternative  !  At  first  it  was 
an  impossibility — then  an  improbability — and  then,  as  the 
ear  of  bearded  corn  wins  its  forbidden  way  up  the  school- 
boy's sleeve,  and  gains  a  point  in  advance  by  every  effort 
to  stop  or  expel  it,  so  did  every  determination,  every 
reflection  counteract  the  very  purpose  it  was  summoned 
to  oppose,  and,  in  short,  one  fine  morning  I  almost 
jumped  a  yard  backward  at  seeing — my  own  name  on 
a  waggon  !" 

The  reference  to  a  bailiff  reminds  me  of  my  father's 
illustration,  one  evening  at  dessert,  of  the  difference  be- 
tween a  farmer  selling  his  produce  personally,  or  doing  so 
through  the  medium  of  a  bailiff.  Taking  three  wine- 
glasses— No.  1  representing  the  farmer.  No.  2  the  bailiff, 
and  No.  3  the  purchaser — he  filled  No.  1  with  port  and 
poured  the  contents  into  No.  3;  what  few  drops  were  left 
in  No.  1  remained  the  property  of  the  farmer.  But  if  the 
wine  were  poured  into  No.  2,  and  from  thence  into  No.  3, 
however  much  the  complete  transference  was  attempted, 


I 


SALES  138 

some  small  portion  always  remained  for  the  benefit  of  the 
intermediary. 

I  always  conducted  my  sales  personally,  except  in  small 
matters,  and  my  experience  in  the  latter  proved  an  excep- 
tion to  the  above  rule,  as  I  have  previously  related  (pp.  17 
and  20). 

I  commend  Talpa,  with  George  Cruikshank's  clever 
illustrations,  to  the  attention  of  all  readers  of  the  curiosities 
of  agriculture,  as  well  as  to  practical  men;  it  is  one  of  those 
uncommon  books  which  enters  into  the  humorous  side  of 
farming  under  disadvantages — as,  for  instance,  prejudiced 
labourers  who  have  long  been  employed  upon  such  work 
as  draining.  The  author  found  one  of  the  men,  after  in- 
structions to  lay  the  pipes  at  a  depth  of  three  feet,  cutting 
a  drain  about  eighteen  inches  deep,  laying  in  the  tiles,  one 
by  one,  and  filling  the  earth  in  over  them  as  he  went.  "  I've 
been  a-drainingthis  forty  year  and  more — I  ought  to  know 
summat  about  it."  The  author  adds,  "  Need  I  tell  you 
who  said  this  ?  or  give  you  the  whole  of  the  colloquy  to 
which  it  furnished  the  epilogue  ?"  Talpa  was  published 
sixty-seven  years  ago,  but  it  contains  much  that  might 
well  be  taken  to  heart  by  our  post-war  amateur  agricultural 
r  econstructionists . 

The  tactics  of  a  combination  of  buyers  at  a  sale  of  house- 
hold goods,  with  an  arrangement  for  one  man  to  buy 
everything  they  want,  so  as  to  avoid  competition,  is  well 
known  as  "  the  knock  out."  I  saw  a  most  flagrant  case 
at  a  sale  of  valuable  books  at  an  old  Cotswold  Manor  House, 
The  books  were  tied  up,  quite  promiscuously,  in  parcels 
of  half  a  dozen  or  more,  and  although  the  room  was  crowded 
with  dealers  who  had  been  examining  them  with  interest 
beforehand,  practically  only  one  bidder  appeared,  and 
nearly  every  lot  was  sold  to  him  for  a  few  shillings.  I 
noticed  several  men  taking  notes  of  the  prices  made,  and, 
immediately  the  book  sale  was  finished,  they  removed  them 
to  the  lawn,  where  they  were  resold  by  one  of  the  gang 
at  greatly  enhanced  prices.  They  would,  of  course, 
eventually  deduct  the  original  cost  from  the  amount  now 


134  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

realized  and  divide  the  difference  amongst  the  buyers  at 
the  second  sale,  pro  rata,  according  to  the  amount  of  each 
man's  total  purchases. 

Cattle-dealers,  with  a  reputation  as  judges  of  fat  stock 
at  auctions,  have  to  be  very  careful  not  to  let  inexperienced 
butchers  sec  them  bidding,  because  the  latter  will  bid  on  the 
strength  of  the  dealer's  estimate  of  value,  arguing  that  the 
animal  must  be  worth  more  to  himself  as  a  butcher,  than 
to  the  dealer  who  has  to  sell  again.  I  have  often  watched 
the  crafty  ways  of  such  dealers  not  to  give  themselves 
away  in  this  manner,  and  their  methods  of  concealing 
their  bids.  One  I  particularly  noticed,  whose  habit  was 
to  stand  just  below  the  auctioneer's  rostrum,  facing  the 
animal  in  the  ring,  with  his  back  to  the  auctioneer.  When 
he  wished  to  bid  he  raised  his  head  very  slightly,  making 
a  nod  backwards  to  the  auctioneer,  who,  knowing  his  man, 
was  looking  out  for  this  method  of  attracting  his  attention. 

Though  the  ordinary  farm  sale  is  by  far  the  most  amusing 
and  picturesque,  the  sale  of  pedigree  stock  is  much  more 
sensational.  When  the  shorthorn  mania  was  at  its  height, 
and  the  merits  of  Bates  and  Booth  blood  were  hotly 
debated,  when  such  phrases  as  "  the  sea-otter  touch," 
referring  to  the  mossy  coat  of  the  red,  white,  or  roan 
shorthorn,  were  heard,  and  the  Americans  were  competing 
with  our  own  breeders  in  purchasing  the  best  stock  they 
could  find — prices  were  hoisted  to  an  extravagant  height. 
There  is  no  forming  a  "knock-out"  at  a  pedigree  sale; 
sturdy  competition  is  the  only  recognized  method  of 
purchase,  and  the  sporting  spirit  is  a  strong  incentive, 
especially  when  the  vendor  is  known  as  a  courageous  buyer 
at  the  sales  of  the  leading  breeders. 

I  attended  the  dispersal  of  a  herd  where  the  owner  had 
been  for  years  one  of  these  sporting  buyers;  he  had, 
however,  gone  more  for  catalogue  blue-blood  than  per- 
ceptible excellence,  and  the  stock  were  brought  into  the 
ring  scarcely  up  to  the  exhibition  form  which  a  pedigree 
sale  demands.  The  American  buyers  were  well  repre- 
sented, and  the  popularity  of  the  vendor  brought  a  great 


SALES  135 

crowd  of  home  buyers,  so  that  the  sale  went  off  with  spirit. 
I  chanced  to  sit  next  to  the  veterinary  surgeon  who  attended 
my  own  stock  as  well  as  the  herd  on  offer,  and  it  was 
amusing  to  hear  his  confidential  communications  as  the 
animals  were  sold  at  huge  prices.  He  knew  their  faults 
and  weaknesses  professionally,  and  it  was  no  breach  of 
confidence,  when  a  cow  had  passed  through  the  ring  and 
extracted  a  big  figure  from  an  American  buyer,  to  whisper 
them  in  my  ear.  I  noticed  that  the  Americans,  no  doubt 
with  commissions  to  buy  a  particular  strain  of  pedigree, 
appeared  to  pay  more  attention  to  the  catalogue  than  to  the 
cattle  themselves,  and  I  saw  some  sold  at  fancy  prices, 
which  I  should  really  have  been  sorry  to  see  in  my  own 
non-pedigree  herd.  The  sale  was  a  great  success,  from  the 
vendor's  point  of  view  at  any  rate,  and  I  think  the  average 
exceeded  seventy  guineas  all  round,  including  calves  only 
a  few  months  old. 

Some  years  later  I  visited  Shipston-on-Stour  with  two 
friends  to  attend  a  shorthorn  sale  in  that  neighbourhood. 
Mr.  Thornton,  the  well-known  pedigree  salesman,  was  the 
auctioneer.  He  waited  about  for  a  long  time  after  the 
hour  fixed  for  the  sale,  until  it  became  evident  that  some- 
thing had  gone  wrong.  It  appeared  that  the  sheriff's 
representative  had  served  a  writ  on  the  vendor  restrain- 
ing the  sale,  and  although  it  was  stated  that  Thornton 
had  offered  a  personal  guarantee  that  the  proceeds 
should  be  handed  over  to  the  sheriff,  the  representa- 
tive could  not  exceed  his  instructions,  and  the  sale  was 
abandoned.  A  large  company,  including  many  foreign 
buyers,  had  assembled;  it  was  difficult  to  get  these  together 
at  a  postponement,  and  when  the  sale  was  proceeded 
with  some  weeks  later,  I  fear  the  result  could  scarcely 
have  proved  so  satisfactory. 

The  Vale  of  Evesham  is  particularly  suitable  for  pedigree 
shorthorn  breeding,  as  the  soil  and  climate  are  very  favour- 
able for  their  production  according  to  exhibition  type. 
It  is  otherwise  with  the  Jersey,  for  they  quickly  adapt 
themselves  to  the  difference  in  their  environment  as  com- 


136  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

pared  with  the  conditions  in  their  native  Channel  Island. 
When  I  exchanged  my  shorthorns  for  Jerseys,  owing  to  the 
foreign  competition  in  the  production  of  beef,  which  at 
sevenpence  a  pound  compared  unfavourably  with  butter 
at  fifteenpence,  I  imported  my  cows  direct  from  the  Island, 
and  afterwards  bred  from  their  descendants,  selling  the 
bull  calves,  and  occasionally  buying  a  young  bull  from 
Jersey.  The  blood  was  therefore  kept  absolutely  pure, 
and,  as  I  was  a  member  of  the  English  Jersey  Society, 
all  my  stock  were  entered  in  the  Herd  Book. 

As  time  went  on  my  cattle  presented  a  noticeable 
change  from  the  original  type;  they  were  larger,  developing 
much  more  hair  and  bone,  and  though  they  gained  in 
strength  of  constitution,  and  were  handsome  and  profit- 
able, they  gradually  lost  the  dainty  deer-like  appearance 
of  the  imported  stock;  and  though  quite  as  valuable  for 
the  purposes  of  the  dairy,  they  would  have  been  regarded 
in  the  show  ring  by  connoisseurs  as  having  a  tendency  to 
coarseness.  I  was,  at  first,  successful  at  the  shows,  but 
as  the  character  of  my  cattle  altered  I  recognized  that  they 
would  stand  no  chance  against  Jerseys  bred  on  lighter 
land,  and  in  a  climate  more  nearly  approximating  to  that  of 
their  native  country. 

Precisely  the  same  thing  happened  with  my  pedigree 
Shropshire  sheep;  environment  altered  their  character  and 
produced  a  different  type — bone,  wool,  and  size  all  in- 
creased. The  wool  was  coarser  and  darker  in  colour; 
they  were  good,  useful,  hardy  stock,  but  could  not  com- 
pete in  quality  with  the  pedigree  sheep  bred  in  their  own 
county.  No  pedigree  Shropshire  breeder  will,  as  a  rule, 
buy  rams  bred  outside  his  own  district,  for  fear  of 
introducing  coarseness  and  an  alteration  of  the  established 
exhibition  type. 

An  amusing  incident  happened  at  Mr.  Graham's  sale 
at  Yardley  near  Birmingham,  at  which  I  was  present. 
Mr.  Graham  had  a  reputation  as  a  Shropshire  sheep- 
breeder;  though  not  actually  farming  in  the  county,  his 
land  was  not  unsuitable,  and,  on  one  occasion,  I  believe, 


EFFECT  OF  CLIMATE  ON  CATTLE        187 

he  won  the  first  prize  for  a  shearling  ram  at  the  show  of 
the  Royal  Agricultural  Society  of  England. 

I  noticed  a  very  non-agricultural  individual  in  a  top  hat, 
who  tried  to  get  into  conversation  with  me  and  who  succeeded 
in  getting  a  luncheon  ticket  gratis.  These  sale  luncheons 
were  at  the  time  very  bountiful  spreads,  including  plenty 
of  champagne,  and  the  man  under  my  observation  made  a 
very  hearty  meal.  Short  speeches  and  toasts  always  follow, 
but  an  adjournment  is  quickly  made  to  the  sale  tent,  before 
the  evaporation  of  the  effects  of  the  hospitality.  It  is  the 
custom  for  a  glove  to  be  passed  round  to  collect  subscrip- 
tions for  the  shepherd,  during  the  progress  of  the  sale,  and 
on  this  occasion  two  young  fellows  undertook  the  duty  of 
collectors.  The  man,  who  had  done  himself  so  well  at 
Mr.  Graham's  expense,  was  evidently  not  buying  or  even 
making  bids,  and  to  each  of  the  collectors  he  said  he  had 
already  contributed  to  the  other.  Being  suspicious  they 
compared  notes,  and  found  that  he  had  made  the  same 
excuse  to  both.  Such  meanness  after  the  hospitality 
he  had  received  was  intolerable;  shouting,  "  He's  a 
Welsher,"  they  lifted  him  bodily,  protesting  and  struggling, 
rushed  him  out  of  the  tent  into  a  neighbouring  field,  and 
cast  him  into  a  dirty  pond  covered  with  green  and  slimy 
duckweed !  A  miserable  object  he  scrambled  out,  for 
the  pond  was  shallow,  and  took  his  dishevelled  and  be- 
draggled presence  away  as  fast  as  he  could  limp  along, 
amid  the  laughter  and  jeers  of  the  crowd. 

The  Hampshire  Down  ram  sales  in  the  palmy  days 
of  farming  were  organized  upon  the  same  scale  of  liberality, 
and  while  the  sale  was  proceeding  steam  was  kept  up  by 
handing  roimd  boxes  of  sixpenny  cigars,  and  brandy  and 
water  in  buckets.  It  is,  of  course,  good  policy  to  keep  a 
company  of  buyers  in  good  humour,  but  I  think  it  has  long 
since  been  recognized  that  hospitality  was  carried  a  little 
too  far  in  those  times  of  prosperity,  and,  in  these  degenerate 
if  more  business-like  days,  extravagance  is  much  less 
evident,  though  there  is  a  hearty  welcome  and  abundance 
for  all. 


188  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

Agricultural  shows  under  favourable  weather  condi- 
tions are  always  popular  and  well-attended.  The  large 
exhibitions  of  the  Royal  Agricultural  Society  of  England, 
the  Bath  and  West  of  England,  and  the  Royal  Counties, 
especially  attract  immense  crowds;  much  business  in  novel 
implements,  machinery,  seeds,  and  artificial  fertilizers, 
was  done  when  times  were  good,  and  the  towns  in  which 
the  shows  are  held  benefit  by  a  large  increase  in  general 
trade.  The  weather,  however,  is  the  arbiter  as  to  the 
attendance,  upon  which  the  financial  result  of  the  show 
depends. 

In  1879,  the  last  of  the  miserable  decade  that  ruined 
thousands  of  farmers  all  over  the  country  with  almost 
continuous  wet  seasons,  poor  crops,  and  wretched  prices, 
the  Royal  Agricultural  Society  held  its  show  at  Kilburn. 
The  ground  had  been  carefully  prepared  and  adapted  for 
the  great  show  w^ith  the  usual  liberal  outlay;  the  work  for 
next  year's  show  always  commencing  as  soon  as  the  show 
of  the  current  year  is  over;  but  the  site  was  situated  on 
the  stiff  London  clay,  and,  after  weeks  of  summer  rains  and 
the  traffic  caused  by  collecting  the  heavy  engines  and 
machinery  and  the  materials  used  in  the  construction  of 
the  sheds  and  buildings,  the  ground  was  churned  into 
a  quagmire  of  clay  and  water,  so  that  in  places  it  was 
impassable,  and  some  of  the  exhibits  were  isolated.  Thou- 
sands of  wattled  hurdles  were  purchased  in  Hampshire, 
and  laid  flat  on  the  mud  along  the  main  routes  to  the 
tents  and  sheds,  but  they  were  quickly  trodden  in  out  of 
sight.  Many  ponderous  engines  were  bogged  on  their 
way  to  their  appointed  places;  nothing  could  move  them, 
and  they  remained  looking  like  derelict  wrecks,  plastered 
with  mud,  sunk  unevenly  above  the  axles  of  their  wheels. 

I  attended  the  show  and  shall  never  forget  the  scene  of 
disaster.  One  afternoon  the  Prince  of  Wales — the  late 
King  Edward — and  a  Royal  party  made  a  gallant  attempt, 
in  carriages,  to  see  the  principal  exhibits,  and  succeeded, 
by  following  a  carefully  selected  and  guarded  route.  The 
crowd  was  dense  by  the  side  of  the  track,  and  people  were 


AGRICULTURAL  SHOWS  139 


making  a  harvest  by  letting  out  chairs  to  stand  on,  so  as 
to  get  a  view  of  the  procession,  with  cries  of,  "  'Ere  you  are, 
sir;  'ere  you  are,  warranted  not  to  sink  in  more  than  a 
mile !"  Outside  the  show-yard,  too,  the  streets  were 
lined  with  long  rows  of  nondescripts,  scraping  the  adhesive 
clay  off  the  shoes  of  the  people  leaving  the  show. 

I  had  a  pocket  of  my  hops  on  exhibition  entered  in  the 
Worcester  class,  and  had  great  difficulty  in  getting  near 
it.  I  found  the  shed  at  last,  deserted  and  surrounded  by 
water,  with  a  pool  below  the  benches  on  which  the  hops 
were  staged.  My  pocket  was  sold  straight  from  the 
show-yard,  and  when  my  factor  sent  in  the  account,  I 
found  that  the  pocket  had  gained  no  less  than  seventeen 
pounds  from  the  damp  to  which  it  had  been  subjected 
since  it  left  my  premises,  about  ten  days  previously;  hops, 
at  that  time,  were  worth  about  Is.  a  pound,  so  that  the 
increased  value  more  than  balanced  all  expenses. 

A  story  is  told  of  Tennyson  at  the  Royal  Counties 
show  at  Guildford.  Accompanied  by  a  lady  and  child 
he  was  walking  round  the  exhibits,  closely  followed  by 
an  ardent  admirer,  anxious  to  catch  any  flights  of  fancy 
that  might  fall  from  his  lips.  Time  passed,  and  the 
poet  showed  no  signs  of  inspiration  until  the  party  ap- 
proached a  refreshment  tent;  then,  to  the  lady  he  said,  to 
the  astonishment  of  the  follower,  "  Just  look  after  this 
child  a  minute  while  I  go  and  get  a  glass  of  beer !"  I 
cannot  vouch  for  the  truth  of  this  story,  but  I  tell  the  tale 
as  'twas  told  to  me. 

It  is  surprising  how  long  farm  implements  will  last  if 
kept  in  the  dry  and  repaired  when  necessary.  I  remember 
a  waggon  at  Alton  in  the  seventies,  which  bore  the  name 
of  the  original  owner  and  the  date  1795;  it  was  still  in  use. 
When  I  decided  to  give  up  farming,  or  rather,  when  farming 
had  given  up  me,  I  disposed  of  my  stock  and  implements 
by  the  usual  auction  sale.  The  attraction  of  a  pedigree 
herd  of  Jerseys,  and  a  useful  lot  of  horses  and  implements, 
brought  a  large  company  together,  and  Aldington  was  a 
lively  place  that  day.     I  was  talking  to  my  son-in-law 


140  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


some  time  afterwards,  and  spoke  with  amusement  about 
the  price  an  old  iron  Cambridge  roller  had  made,  not  in 
the  least  knowing  who  was  the  purchaser,  until  he 
said,  "  And  /  was  the  mug  who  bought  it  !"  I  believe, 
however,  that  a  year  or  two  later  it  fully  maintained  its 
price  when  valued  to  the  next  owner,  and  probably  to-day 
it  must  be  worth  at  least  three  times  the  money.  I  can 
trace  its  history  for  a  period  of  fifty-three  years,  and  I  don't 
think  it  was  new  at  the  beginning. 


CHAPTER  XII 

FARM    SPECIALISTS 

"  And  who  that  knew  him  could  forget 
The  busy  wrinkles  round  his  eyes." 

The  Miller's  Daughter. 

Many  specialists,  in  distinct  professions,  visited  the 
farm  in  the  course  of  every  twelve  months,  and  each 
appeared  at  the  season  when  his  particular  services  were 
likely  to  be  required.  Among  these  an  ancient  grafter 
was  one  of  the  most  important,  and  April  was  the 
month  which  brought  him  to  Aldington.  In  January 
we  had  usually  beheaded  some  trees  that  we  considered 
not  worth  leaving  as  they  were:  these  would  be  trees 
producing  inferior  and  nondescript  cider  apples,  or  perry 
pears.  And  we  had  already  cut,  and  laid  in  a  shady  place, 
half  covered  with  soil,  the  young  shoots  of  profitable 
sorts  to  furnish  the  grafts  for  converting  the  beheaded 
trees  into  valuable  producers. 

The  old  man's  function  was  to  prepare  the  grafts,  and 
unite  them  in  deftly-cut  notches  with  their  new  parents. 
His  was  a  rosy-cheeked  and  many- wrinkled  face,  reminding 
one  of  an  apple  stored  all  the  winter,  and,  in  his  brown 
velveteen  coat,  with  immense  pocketis,  he  made  a  notable 
figure.  He  loved  a  chat  and  was  always  happy  and 
communicative,  and  his  arrival  seemed  as  much  a  herald 
of  spring  as  that  of  the  welcome  cuckoo.  He  was  paid 
*' by  the  piece,"  "three-halfpence  a  graft  and  cider," 
quantity  not  specified,  but  an  important  part  of  the 
bargain  because  of  a  superstition  that  grafts  "  unwetted  " 
would  not  thrive  !  Some  of  these  large  trees  would  have 
ten  or  more  limbs  requiring  separate  grafting,  and 
therefore    they    earned    him    a    considerable    sum,    but 

141 


142  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

it  is  surprising  how  soon  they  make  a  new  head,  come 
into  bearing,  and  repay  with  interest  the  cost  of  the 
work. 

He  was  a  thoughtful  old  man  and  a  moralist.  I  can 
see  him  now,  standing  with  his  snuff-box  open  ready 
in  his  hand,  and  saying  very  solemnly,  "  I  often  thinks 
as  an  apple-tree  is  very  similar  to  a  child,  for  you  know, 
sir,  we're  told  to  train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  shall  go, 
and  when  he  is  old  he  will  not  depart  therefrom."  He 
then  refreshed  himself  with  a  mighty  pinch  of  snuff, 
closing  his  box  with  a  snap  that  emphasized  his  air  of 
complete  conviction. 

I  think  the  sheep-dipper  was  one  of  the  early  arrivals. 
He  brings  with  him  an  apparatus  which  provides  a  bath, 
and  a  kind  of  gangway,  rising  at  an  angle  from  it,  upon 
which  the  sheep  can  stand  after  immersion,  to  allow  the 
superfluous  liquid  to  find  its  way  back  into  the  bath; 
each  sheep  is  lifted  by  tw^o  men  into  the  bath  containing 
insecticide,  and  has  an  interval  for  dripping  before  it 
rejoins  the  flock.  In  the  days  when  Viper  was  young, 
he  was  introduced  to  the  process  and  given  a  dip  himself, 
much  to  his  disgust;  but  that  was  the  only  time,  for  ever 
afterwards  no  sooner  did  the  sheep-dipper  and  his  weird- 
looking  apparatus  appear  at  night,  in  readiness  for  the 
performance  on  the  morrow,  than  Viper  remembered  his 
undignified  experience,  and,  before  even  the  overture  of 
the  play  commenced,  vanished  for  the  day.  Nobody  saw 
him  go,  or  knew  where  he  went,  but  it  was  useless  to  call 
or  whistle,  he  was  nowhere  to  be  found. 

I  believe  the  active  ingredient  of  the  dip  was 
a  preparation  of  arsenic,  and  upon  one  occasion  I 
lost  several  sheep  after  the  dipping,  presumably  from 
arsenical  poisoning  absorbed  through  the  skin.  I  met 
the  dipper  a  few  days  later,  and  he  said  with  a 
beaming  face  that  he  had  "  given  'em  summat,"  meaning 
the  parasites.  His  smiles  disappeared  when  I  told  him 
the  result,  and  that  the  remedy  had  proved  more  fatal 
than  the  disease.     After  this  experience  I  used  a  more 


FARM  SPECIALISTS  143 

scientific  dip  which   was  quite  as  effective  and  without 
the  element  of  danger  to  the  sheep. 

Entries  are  to  be  found  in  the  old  parish  records  of 
sums  paid  and  chargeable  to  the  parish  for  killing  "  woonts" 
(moles),  but  later  private  enterprise  was  alone  respon- 
sible. A  mole-catcher  had  been  employed  throughout 
the  whole  of  my  predecessor's  time  at  Aldington,  with  a 
yearly  remuneration  of  12s.  On  my  arrival  he  called 
and  asked  me  to  forward  the  account  for  the  last  year 
to  his  employer;  it  ran  as  follows:  "To  dastroyin  thay 
woonts,  12s."  The  man  hoped  that  I  should  continue  the 
arrangement,  but,  as  I  had  not  seen  a  mole  or  a  mole-hill 
on  the  farm,  I  told  him  I  would  wait,  and  would  send 
for  him  if  I  found  them  troublesome.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
I  never  saw  a  mole,  or  heard  of  one  on  my  land,  throughout 
the  tw^enty-eight  years  of  my  occupation. 

Rat-catchers  are  necessary  when  rats  are  very  numerous, 
but  rats  appear  to  be  very  capricious,  abounding  in  some 
seasons  and  scarce  in  others.  My  particular  rat-catcher 
was  not  a  very  highly  evolved  specimen  of  humanity; 
he  was  thin  and  hungry-looking  with  an  angular  face, 
bearing  a  strong  resemblance  to  the  creatures  against 
whom  he  waged  warfare;  he  had  a  wandering,  restless  and 
furtive  expression,  and  appeared  to  be  perpetually  on 
the  lookout  for  his  prey,  or  for  manifestations  of  their 
cunning  and  other  evil  characteristics  in  the  humanity  with 
which  he  came  in  contact.  His  terms  were,  "  no  cure,  no 
pay,"  which  impressed  one  with  his  confidence  in  his 
own  remedies;  but  these  were  profound  secrets,  and  I  had 
to  be  content  with  the  assurance  that  he  used  nothing 
harmful  to  man  or  domestic  animals.  He  was  certainly 
successful,  and  effectually  cleared  the  ricks  and  buildings 
at  one  of  my  outlying  places  previously  badly  infested; 
no  dead  rats  w^ere  ever  found,  but  all  disappeared  very 
soon  after  I  engaged  him. 

It  is  well  known  that  rats  will  unexpectedly  desert 
quarters  which  they  have  occupied  for  a  long  time,  and 
travel  in  large   bodies  to  a  new  locality.      An  old  man 


144  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


told  me  that,  in  walking  by  the  brook-side  footpath 
from  Aldington  to  Badsey,  he  once  encountered  one  of 
these  armies;  they  looked  so  threatening  and  were  in 
such  numbers,  that  he  had  to  turn  aside  to  allow  them 
to  pass,  as  they  showed  no  signs  of  giving  way  for  him. 

One  morning  my  bailiff  came  in  to  say  that  a  bean- 
rick  had  suddenly  been  taken  possession  of  by  an  immense 
number  of  rats,  where  shortly  before  not  one  could 
have  been  found.  A  man  going  to  the  rick-yard  quite 
early  had  seen  the  roof  of  the  rick  black  with  them; 
they  were  apparently  drinking  the  dew  hanging  in  drops 
on  the  straws  of  the  thatch.  They  were  so  close  together, 
"  so  thick,"  as  he  expressed  it,  that  one  was  killed  by  a 
stone  throA\Ti  "  into  the  brown "  of  them.  We  sent 
for  the  thrashing  machine  a  day  or  two  later,  and  killed 
over  seventy,  and  many  escaped.  Every  dead  rat  was 
plastered  with  mud  underneath,  especially  on  their  tails, 
and  it  was  evident  that  they  had  only  just  arrived  when 
first  seen,  and  had  travelled  some  distance,  probably  the 
evening  before,  along  the  clayey  overhanging  bank  of  the 
brook. 

We  always  had  great  numbers  of  water-rats  about  the 
brook;  they  are  no  relation  of  the  land-rat,  having  blunter 
noses,  shorter  tails,  and  very  soft  fur.  They  have  not 
the  loathsome  appearance  of  the  land-rat,  and  live,  almost 
entirely,  on  water-weeds,  rushes,  and  other  vegetable 
matter.  It  is  pretty  to  see  them  swimming  across  a 
stream;  they  dive  when  alarmed,  and  remain  out  of  sight 
a  long  time;  they  never  leave  the  water  or  the  bank,  and 
are  quite  innocent  of  depredations  on  corn. 

In  some  counties,  but  not  so  far  as  I  am  aware  in 
Worcestershire,  one  of  the  harmless  snappers  up  of  un- 
considered trifles  is  the  truffle-hunter.  At  Alton,  in 
Hampshire,  one  of  these  men  appeared  in  summer;  he 
carried  an  implement  like  a  short-handled  thistle  spud, 
but  with  a  much  longer  blade,  similar  to  that  of  a  small 
spade  but  narrower;  he  was  accompanied  by  a  frisky 
little  Frenchified  dog,  unlike  any  dog  one  commonly  sees. 


FARM  SPECIALISTS  145 

and  very  alert.  The  hunting  ground  was  beneath  the 
overhanging  branches  of  beech-trees,  growing  on  a  chalky 
soil;  the  man  encouraged  the  dog  by  voice  to  hunt  the 
surface  of  the  land  regularly  over;  when  the  dog  scented 
the  truffles  underneath,  he  began  to  scratch,  whereupon 
the  implement  came  into  use,  and  they  were  soon 
secured.  I  have  since  been  sorry  that  I  did  not  inter- 
view this  truffle-hunter  as  to  his  methods  and  as  to 
his  dog,  for  I  believe  he  is  no  longer  to  be  seen  in  his 
old  haunts.  But  I  did  get  a  pound  or  two  to  try,  and 
was  disappointed  by  the  absence  of  flavour.  I  have  since 
read  that  the  English  truffle  is  considered  very  inferior 
to  the  French,  which  is  used  in  making  pate  de  foie  gras. 

The  wool-stapler  makes  his  rounds  as  soon  as  shearing 
is  completed;  his  first  call  is  to  examine  the  fleeces,  and 
if  a  deal  results  a  second  visit  follows  for  weighing  and 
packing.  He  is  of  course  well  up  in  market  values,  prob- 
ably receiving  a  telegram  every  morning,  when  trade  is 
active,  from  the  great  wool-trade  centre,  Bradford.  He 
is  not  imwilling  to  give  a  special  price  for  quality,  but 
will  sometimes  stipulate  for  secrecy  as  to  the  sum,  because 
farmers,  naturally,  compare  notes,  and  everyone  thinks 
himself  entitled  to  the  top  price  no  matter  how  inferior 
or  badly  washed  his  wool  may  be.  The  Bradford  stapler 
has  the  northern  method  of  speech,  which  sounds  un- 
familiar in  the  midland  and  southern  counties,  but  it  is 
not  so  cryptic  as  that  of  the  Scottish  wool  trade.  The 
following  colloquy  is  reported  as  having  passed  between 
two  Scots  over  a  deal  in  woollen  cloth. 

Buyer.  "  'Oo  ?" 

Seller,  "Ay,  'oo." 

Buyer.  "  A'  'oo  ?" 

Seller.  "  Ay,  a'  'oo." 

Buyer.  "  A'  a  'oo  ?" 

SelUr.  "  Ay,  a*  a  'oo." 
Which,  being  interpreted,  is:   "Wool?" — "Yes,   wool." 
"All    wool?"— "Yes,    all    wool."     "All    one    wool  ?"— 
"  Yes,  all  one  wool." 

10 


146  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

When  the  stapler  arrives  for  the  weighing  he  brings 
his  steelyards  and  sheets;  the  wool  is  trod  into  the  sheets, 
sewn  up,  and  each  sheet  weighed  separately,  an  allowance 
being  made  for  "  tare  "  (the  weight  of  the  sheet),  and  for 
**■  draught  "  (^  a  pound  in  each  tod,  or  28  pounds).  This 
last  is  a  survival  of  the  old  method  of  weighing  wool, 
when  only  enough  fleeces  were  weighed  at  a  time  on  the 
farmer's  small  machine  to  come  to  a  tod  as  nearly  as 
possible.  Buyers  did  not  recognize  anything  but  level 
pounds  (no  quarters  or  halves),  and  consequently  they 
got  on  the  average  half  a  pound  over  the  tod  at  each 
separate  w^eighing,  gratis. 

Owing  to  the  immense  importations  of  Australian  wool, 
the  price  of  English,  which  at  one  time  was  half-a-crown 
a  pound,  fell  to  the  miserable  figure  of  sevenpence  or 
thereabouts.  When  I  was  in  Lincolnshire,  the  tenant  of 
the  farm  where  I  was  a  pupil  clipped  14  pounds  each  from 
200  "  hoggs  "  (yearling  sheep),  which  at  2s.  6d.  per  pound 
produced  35s.  per  sheep,  equal  to  £350,  so  the  fall  of 
three-quarters  of  the  value  was  a  serious  loss. 

A  story  is  told  of  a  cunning  wool  buyer  in  the  dim  past 
weighing  up  wool  on  an  upper  floor  of  some  farm  premises. 
As  the  fleeces  passed  the  machine  they  were  thrown  down 
an  opening  to  the  floor  beneath  in  readiness  for  packing. 
The  pile  of  wool  upstairs  had  been  there  some  time, 
and  was  full  of  rats.  As  the  fleeces  were  moved  a  rat 
would  sometimes  rush  out  trying  to  escape.  No  farm 
labourer  can  resist  a  rat  hunt,  so  the  buyer  being  left  alone 
beside  the  still  unmoved  fleeces,  whenever  a  rat  appeared, 
and  the  men  scattered  in  every  direction  in  pursuit, 
he  took  the  opportunity  to  kick  a  few  fleeces  unweighed 
down  the  opening.  When  the  owner  came  to  reckon 
the  quantity  the  buyer  should  have  had,  and  compared 
it  with  the  weight,  the  fraud  was  discovered,  and  the 
deficiency  had  to  be  made  good. 

I  heard  of  a  Hampshire  farmer  whose  wife  was  anxious 
for  a  drawing-room  to  be  added  to  an  inadequate  farm- 
house,   and  the   tenant  with   some   difficulty   persuaded 


FARM  SPECIALISTS  147 

the  landlord  to  make  the  alteration.  When  the  work 
was  complete  the  farmer  expressed  the  great  satisfaction 
of  his  wife  and  himself  with  the  addition,  and  the  landlord 
was  anxious  to  see  the  new  room.  Every  time  he  sug- 
gested a  day,  the  farmer  objected  that  it  would  be  in- 
convenient to  his  wife,  or  that  he  himself  would  be  away 
from  home.  Time  went  on,  and  the  landlord,  finding  it  im- 
possible to  arrange  a  day  that  was  not  objected  to,  made 
a  surprise  visit,  when  shooting  over  the  farm.  The  farmer 
protested  as  to  the  inconvenience,  but  the  owner  insisted, 
and  was  conducted  to  the  new  drawing-room.  The  door 
was  thrown  open,  and  the  room  was  seen  to  be  stacked  from 
floor  to  ceiling  with  wool,  without  a  stick  of  furniture  in  the 
place  ! 

The  veterinary  surgeon  is  a  necessary,  but  not  very 
welcome  visitor,  for,  of  course,  his  attendance  means 
disease  or  accident  to  the  stock.  He  is  not  often  mistaken 
in  his  diagnosis,  though  his  patient  cannot  detail  his 
symptoms,  or  point  to  the  position  of  the  trouble.  But 
the  vet  is  a  man  to  be  dispensed  with  as  long  as  possible 
when  epidemics,  like  swine  fever  or  foot  and  mouth 
disease,  are  raging  in  the  neighbourhood,  because  he 
may  be  a  Government  Inspector  at  such  times,  and  there 
is  great  danger  to  healthy  stock  if  he  has  been  officially 
employed  shortly  before  on  an  inspection.  We  had  very 
little  disease  at  Aldington,  being  off  the  highroad,  but 
we  had  one  bad  attack  of  foot  and  mouth  disease  which 
I  always  thought  was  brought  by  a  veterinary  surgeon. 
The  complaint  went  all  through  my  dairy  cows  and 
fattening  bullocks,  and  soon  reduced  them  to  lean  beasts, 
but  it  was  surprising  how  quickly  they  picked  up  again 
in  flesh  and  resumed  their  normal  appearance.  It  was 
curious  to  notice  that,  with  the  cows  standing  side  by 
side  in  the  sheds,  the  disease  would  attack  one  and  miss 
the  next  two  perhaps,  then  attack  two  and  miss  one, 
and  so  on;  doubtless  it  was  a  matter  of  predisposition  on 
the  part  of  those  affected. 

The  veterinary  lecturer  at  Cirencester  College  told  me 


148  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

that  during  the  cattle  plague  in  the  sixties  he  had  a  coat 
well  worth  £50  to  any  veterinary  surgeon,  so  impregnated 
was  it  with  the  infection.  This  man  was  fond  of  scoring 
off  the  students,  and  had  a  habit  at  the  commencement 
of  each  lecture  of  holding  a  short  viva  voce  examination 
on  the  subject  of  the  last.  I  remember  when  the  tables 
were  turned  upon  him  by  a  ready-witted  student.  The 
lecturer,  who  was  a  superior  veterinary  surgeon,  detailed 
a  whole  catalogue  of  exaggerated  symptoms  exhibited 
by  an  imaginary  horse,  and  selecting  his  victim  added, 
with  a  chuckle,  "  Now,  Mr.  K.,  perhaps  you  will  kindly 
tell  us  what  treatment  you  would  adopt  under  these 
circumstances  ?"  K.  was  not  a  very  diligent  student,  and 
the  lecturer  expected  a  display  of  ignorance,  but  his 
anticipated  triumph  was  cut  short  by  the  reply:  "Well, 
if  I  had  a  horse  as  bad  as  all  that  I  should  send  for  the 
vet."  The  lecturer  expostulated,  but  could  get  nothing 
further  out  of  K.,  and  was  forced  to  recognize  that  the 
general  laugh  which  followed  was  against  himself. 

At  a  post-mortem,  however,  he  was  more  successful  in 
his  choice  of  a  butt.  A  dead  horse  with  organs  exposed 
was  the  object  before  the  class,  and  the  lecturer  was 
asking  questions  as  to  their  identification.  "  Now,  Mr. 
Jones,  perhaps  you  will  show  us  where  his  lungs  are  ?" 
Jones  made  an  unsuccessful  search.  "  Well,  can  we  see 
where  his  heart  is  ?"  and  so  on — all  failures.  Finally 
and  scornfully,  "  Well,  perhaps  you  can  show  the  gentlemen 
where  his  tail  is  !" 

The  village  thatcher,  Obadiah  B.,  was  an  ancient, 
but  efficient  workman  when  engaged  upon,  cottages  or 
farm  buildings,  for  ricks  require  only  a  comparatively 
temporary  treatment.  He  was  paid  by  the  "  square  " 
of  100  feet,  and,  although  he  was  "  no  scholard,"  and 
never  used  a  tape,  he  was  quite  capable  of  checking 
by  some  method  I  could  never  fathom  my  own  measure- 
ments with  it.  The  finishing  touches  to  his  work  were 
adjusted  with  the  skill  of  an  artist  and  the  accuracy  of 
a  mathematician;  and  a  beautiful  bordering  of  "buckles" 


FARM  SPECIALISTS  149 


in  an  elaborate  pattern  of  angles  and  crosses — "  Fantykes  " 
(Van  Dycks),  his  hard-working  daughter  Sally  called  them 
— completed  the  job.  He  "  reckoned  "  that  each  thatching 
would  last  at  least  twenty  years,  and  being  well  stricken 
in  years,  or  "  getting-up-along  "  as  they  say  in  Hampshire, 
he  would  add  gloomily,  "  /  shall  never  do  it  no  more. " 
He  was  a  true  prophet,  for  on  every  building  he  thatched 
for  me  the  work  outlived  him,  and  even  after  the  lapse 
of  thirty  years  is  not  completely  worn  out. 

Passing  him  and  his  son  in  the  village  street,  outside 
his  house,  when  he  was  packing  fruit  for  market,  I  heard 
him,  his  voice  raised  for  my  benefit,  thus  admonishing  his 
son  who  was  casually  using  some  of  the  newer  hampers : 
"  Alius  wear  out  the  old,  fust."  But  I  must  not  attribute 
to  his  son  the  unfilial  retort  which  another  youth  made 
under  similar  circumstances,  when  told  to  fetch  some 
more  hampers  from  a  shed  some  distance  away:  "No, 
father,  you  fetch  them,  alius  wear  out  the  old  fust,  you 
know." 

Occasional  visitors  come  with  goods  for  sale  in  quest 
of  orders,  and  some  are  very  persistent  and  difficult 
to  get  rid  of.  A  man  professing  to  sell  some  artificial 
fertilizer  called  upon  me  with  a  small  tin  sample  box,  con- 
taining a  mixture  which  emitted  a  most  villainous  odour. 
He  sniffed  with  appreciation  at  the  compound,  probably 
consisting  of  some  nitrogenous  material  such  as  wool 
treated  with  sulphuric  or  hydrochloric  acid,  and  began 
his  address.  He  had  not  gone  far  before  I  remembered  a 
story  of  a  similar  person  in  Hampshire.  This  man  had 
called  upon  the  leading  farmers,  and  offered  them  a  bargain, 
explaining  that  some  trucks  of  artificial  manure  that  he 
had  consigned  to  Walton  Station  had  been  sent  by  mistake 
to  Alton.  He  sold  many  tons  in  this  way  without  any 
guarantee  as  to  the  analysis,  but  the  buyers  found  on 
using  it  that  it  was  worthless.  The  seller  tried  his  game 
on  again  the  following  year,  without  success.  One  farmer 
whom  he  followed  from  the  farm-house  to  a  turnip-field 
went  so  far  as  to  show  him  his  hunting-crop,  and  pointing 


150  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


to  the  field  gate  at  the  same  time,  intimated  that  if  he  did 
not  with  all  speed  plaec  himself  outside  the  latter,  he 
would  make  unpleasant  acquaintance  with  the  former. 
So  now  when  my  caller  mentioned  a  truck  of  the  manure 
which  had  come  by  mistake  to  Evesham  Station,  though 
consigned  to  Evershot  in  Somerset,  my  suspicions  were 
confirmed,  and  when  I  innocently  remarked,  "  I  think  I 
remember  that  truck,  didn't  it  go  to  Alton  once  in  mistake 
for  Walton  ?"  his  countenance  fell,  and  he  wished  me 
"  good-morning  "  in  a  hurry. 

Hurdles  in  Worcestershire  are  generallj^  made  of 
"  v/ithy "  (willow),  and  it  is  interesting  to  watch  the 
hurdle-maker  at  work.  The  poles  have  first  to  be  peeled, 
which  can  be  done  by  unskilled  labour,  the  pole  being 
fixed  in  an  improvised  upright  vice  made  from  the  same 
material.  Then  comes  the  skilled  man,  who  cuts  the 
poles  into  suitable  lengths,  and  splits  the  pieces  into  the 
correct  widths.  Next  with  an  axe  he  trims  off  the 
rough  edges,  shapes  the  ends  of  the  rails,  and  pierces  the 
uprights  with  a  centre-bit.  Then  he  completes  the  mortise 
in  a  moment  with  a  chisel,  the  rails  being  laid  in  position 
as  guides  to  the  size  of  the  apertures.  The  rails  are  then 
driven  home  into  the  mortise  holes,  and  he  skips  back- 
wards and  forwards,  over  the  hurdle  flat  on  the  ground, 
as  he  nails  the  rails  to  the  heads;  two  pieces,  in  the  form 
of  a  V  reversed,  connect  the  rails  and  keep  them  in  place. 

In  counties  where  hazel  is  grown  in  the  coppices,  a 
wattled  or  "  flake "  hurdle  is  the  favourite,  and  they 
afford  much  more  shelter  to  sheep  in  the  fold  than  the 
open  withy  hurdle,  but,  being  more  lightly  made,  they 
require  stakes  and  "  shackles  "  to  keep  them  in  position. 
The  hazel  hurdle-maker  may  be  seen  in  the  coppice 
surrounded  by  his  material  and  the  clean  fresh  stacks  of  the 
work  completed.  The  process  of  manufacture  differs  from 
that  of  the  open-railed  hurdle:  he  has  an  upright  frame- 
work fixed  to  the  ground  with  holes  bored  at  the  exact 
places  for  the  vertical  pieces,  and  indicating  the  correct 
length  of  the  hurdle,  when  finished.     The  horizontal  pieces 


FARM  SPECIALISTS  151 

or  rods  are  comparatively  slender  and  easily  twisted, 
and  so  can  be  bent  back  where  they  reach  the  outside 
uprights,  and  they  are  interlaced  with  the  others  in  basket- 
making  fashion.  At  this  stage  the  hurdle  presents  an 
unfinished  appearance,  with  the  ends  of  the  horizontal 
rods  protruding  from  the  face  of  the  hurdle.  Then  the 
maker  with  a  special  narrow  and  exceedingly  sharp 
hatchet  chops  off  at  one  blow  each  of  the  projecting  ends, 
with  admirable  accuracy,  never  missing  his  aim  or  ex- 
ceeding the  exact  degree  of  strength  necessary  to  sever  the 
superfluous  bit  without  injuring  the  hurdle  itself.  The 
hurdle-maker  is  paid  at  a  price  per  dozen,  and  he  earns 
and  deserves  "  good  money." 

The  art  of  making  wattled  hurdles  is  passed  on  and 
carried  down  from  father  to  son  for  generations;  the  hurdle- 
maker  is  usually  a  cheery  man  and  receives  a  gracious 
welcome  from  the  missus  and  the  maids  when  he  calls  at 
the  farm-house,  often  emphasized  by  a  pint  of  home-brewed. 
He  combines  the  accuracy  of  the  draughtsman  with  the 
delicate  touch  of  the  accomplished  lawn-tennis  player.  His 
exits  and  his  entrances  from  and  to  the  scene  of  his  labours 
are  made  in  the  remote  mysterious  surroundings  of  the 
seldom-trodden  woods ;  overhead  is  the  brilliant  blue  of  the 
clear  spring  sky;  the  sunshine  lights  up  the  quiet  hazel 
tones  of  his  simple  materials,  his  highly  finished  work,  and 
his  heaps  of  clean  fresh  chips;  and  his  stage  is  the  newly 
cut  coppice,  carpeted  with  primroses  and  wild  hyacinths. 
I  have  never  seen  a  representation  of  this  charming  scene, 
and  I  commend  the  subject  to  the  country-loving  artist 
as  full  of  interest  and  colour,  and  as  a  theme  of  natural 
beauty. 

Our  blacksmith  came  twice  a  week  to  the  village 
when  work  was  still  plentiful  in  the  early  days  of  my 
farming,  and  I  was  not  yet  the  only  practical  farmer  in 
the  place.  I  need  not  describe  the  forge:  it  has  been  sung 
by  Longfellow,  made  music  of  by  Handel,  and  painted 
by  Morland;  everybody  knows  its  gleaming  red-hot  iron, 
its  cascades  of   sparks,  and  the  melodious  clank  of  the 


152  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


heavy  hammer  as  it  Tails  upon  the  impressionable  metal. 
In  all  pursuits  which  entail  the  use  of  an  open  fire  at 
night,  its  fascination  attracts  both  busy  and  idle 
villagers,  and  more  especially  in  winter  it  becomes 
a  centre  for  local  gossip.  At  that  season  the  time- 
honoured  gossip  corner,  close  to  the  Manor  gate,  was 
deserted  for  the  warmth  and  action  of  the  forge.  Black- 
smiths, like  other  specialists,  vary,  and  the  difference 
may  be  expressed  as  that  between  the  man  who  fits  the 
shoe  to  the  hoof,  and  the  man  who  fits  the  hoof  to  the 
shoe — in  other  words,  the  workman  and  the  sloven.  Doubt- 
less many  a  slum-housed  artisan  in  the  big  town,  driven 
from  his  country  home  by  the  flood  of  unfair  foreign 
competition,  looks  back  with  longing  to  the  bright  old 
cottage  garden  of  his  youth  and  in  his  dreams  hears  the 
music  of  the  forge,  sees  the  blazing  fire,  and  sniffs  the 
pungency  of  scorching  hoof. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  DAIRY— CATTLE— SHEEP— LAMBS— PIGS— POULTRY 

"  And  brushing  ankle-deep  in  flowers, 
We  heard  behind  the  woodbine  veil 
The  milk  that  bubbled  in  the  pail, 
And  buzzings  of  the  honied  hours." 

In  Memoriam. 

My  farm  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  good  cheese  farm, 
but  a  bad  butter  farm;  in  spite,  however,  of  this  tradition 
I  determined  to  establish  a  pedigree  Jersey  herd  for  butter- 
making.  For  early  in  my  occupation  I  had  abandoned 
the  cheese  manufacture  of  my  predecessor  and  later  the 
production  of  unprofitable  beef.  My  wife  attended  various 
lectures  and  demonstrations  and  was  soon  able  to  prove 
that  the  bad  character  of  the  farm  for  this  purpose  was 
not  justified.  Within  a  few  years  she  covered  one  wall 
of  the  dairy  with  prize  cards  won  at  all  the  leading  shows, 
and  found  a  ready  market  for  the  produce,  chiefly  by 
parcel  post  to  friends.  The  butter,  although  it  commanded 
rather  a  better  price  than  ordinary  quality,  was  considered 
not  only  by  them  but  by  the  villagers  more  economical, 
as  owing  to  its  solidity  and  freedom  from  butter  milk, 
it  would  keep  good  indefinitely,  and  "went  much  further." 
The  cream  from  my  Jerseys  was  so  thick  that  the 
cream  crock  could  be  lifted  up  by  the  wooden  spoon 
used  for  stirring,  by  merely  plunging  it  into  the  crock 
full  of  cream  and  raising  it,  without  touching  the  crock 
in  any  other  way.  With  fifteen  cows  and  heifers  in 
milk  on  an  average,  the  Jerseys  brought  me  in  quite 
£300  a  year  in  butter  and  cream,  without  considering 
the  value  of  the  calves,  and  of  the  skim-milk  for  the 
pigs,  and  they  were  worth  a  good  deal  besides  from  the 
aesthetic  point  of  view.     I  think  that  the  word  "  dainty  " 

153 


154  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


describes  the  Jersey  better  than  any  other  adjective; 
their  beautiful  Hnes  and  colouring  in  all  shades  of  fa\Mi 
and  silver  grey  make  them  a  continual  delight  to  behold. 
After  all,  however,  the  shorthorn  is  a  magnificent  creature; 
they,  too,  have  their  aesthetic  side;  the  outline  is  more 
robust,  their  colouring  more  pronounced,  and  I  think 
that  "  stately  "  is  the  best  description  to  apply  to  their 
distinguished  bearing. 

At  Worcester,  on  market  days,  a  great  deal  of  butter 
is  brought  in  by  the  country  people  and  retailed  in  the 
Market   Hall,    and   many   of  these   farmers'    wives   and 
daughters  have  regular  customers,  who  come  each  week 
for  their  supply.     On  one  occasion  when  the  inspector  of 
weights  and  measures  was  making  a  surprise  visit,  and 
testing  the  weights  of  the  goods  on  offer,  a  man,  standing 
near  a  stall  where  only  one  pound  of  butter  was  left 
unsold,  noticed  that  as  soon  as  the  owTier  became  aware 
of  the  inspector's  entrance,  she  slipped  two  half-crowns 
into  the  pat,  obliterating  the  marks  where  they  had  been 
inserted.     She  was  evidently  aware  that  the  butter  was 
not  full  weight,  but  with   the    addition   it    satisfied   the 
inspector's  test,  the  two  half-crowns  just  balancing  the 
one  ounce  short.     No  sooner  was  he  gone  than  the  spectator 
came  forward  to  buy  the  butter.     She  guessed  that  he  had 
seen  the  trick,  and  dared  not  refuse  to  sell,  although  she 
tried    hard    to   avoid    doing  so;    so   the   cunning   buyer 
walked  off  with  fifteen  ounces  of  butter  worth  Is.  2d.,  and 
5s.  in  silver  for  his  outlay  of  Is.  3d. 

In  farm-houses  where  old-fashioned  ways  of  butter- 
making  are  still  followed,  and  the  thermometer  is  ignored, 
it  happens  sometimes  that  after  some  hours'  churning  the 
butter  does  not  "  come."  The  traditional  remedy  is  then 
tried  of  introducing  one  or  two  half-crowns  into  the  churn, 
partly,  I  think,  as  a  kind  of  charm,  and  partly  with  the 
idea  of  what  is  called  "  cutting  the  curd."  The  remedy  is 
certainly  sometimes  successful,  probably  the  coins  set 
up  a  new  movement  in  the  rotating  cream,  which  causes 
an  almost  immediate  appearance  of  the  butter. 


CATTLE  155 

On  the  outside  of  the  framework  of  the  windows  in 
some  of  these  old  places,  the  word  "  dairy  "  or  "  cheese- 
room  "  may  still  be  seen,  painted  or  incised.  This  is  a 
survival  from  the  days  of  the  window  tax,  and  was 
necessary  to  claim  the  exemption  which  these  rooms 
as  places  of  business  enjoyed  by  law. 

My  former  tutor,  the  late  vicar  of  Old  Basing  in 
Hampshire,  decided  to  keep  a  cow  on  his  glebe,  and 
consulted  the  old  parish  clerk  as  to  the  kind  of  cow  he 
would  recommend.  The  old  man  was  the  oracle  of  the 
village  on  all  matters  secular  as  well  as  those  connected 
with  his  calling.  "  Well,"  he  said,  "  what  you  wants  is  a  nice 
pretty  little  cow,  not  a  great  big  beast  as'll  stand  a-looking 
and  a-staring  at  you  all  day  long."  The  vicar  followed 
his  advice,  avoided  the  stony  regard  of  an  unintelligent 
animal,  and  purchased  a  charming  little  tender-eyed 
Brittany,  which  was  quite  an  ornament  to  his  meadow. 

People  were  very  shy  of  American  beef  when  first 
imported  but,  being  lower  in  price  than  English  it  was 
bought  by  those  who  were  willing  to  sacrifice  quality  to 
cheapness.  It  was  said  that  the  most  inferior  English 
was  sold  under  the  name  of  American,  the  best  of  the 
American  doing  duty  for  medium  quality  English.  I  re- 
member seeing  a  very  ancient  and  poverty-stricken 
cow  knocked  down  to  a  Birmingham  dealer,  who  exclaimed 
exultingly  as  the  hammer  fell,  "  I'll  make  'em  some 
'Merican  biff  in  Brummagem  this  week." 

The  neglected  and  overgrown  hedges,  now  so  often 
seen  on  what  was  formerly  good  wheat -growing  land, 
have  a  useful  side  as  shelter  when  surrounding  pasture. 
In  the  bitter  winds  which  often  occur  in  May,  when  the 
cattle  are  first  turned  out  after  a  winter  in  the  yards  well 
littered  with  clean  straw,  they  can  be  seen  on  the  southern 
side  protected  from  the  blast.  Referring  to  the  May 
blossom  of  the  white-thorn,  an  old  proverb  says,  with  a 
faulty  rhyme: 

"  May  come  early  or  May  come  late 
'Tis  sure  to  make  the  old  cow  quake."' 


156  Al^  ENGLISH  MANOR 


May  Day  has  always  been  the  customary  date  for  turning 
out  cattle  to  grass,  but  people  forget  that  old  May  Day 
was  nearly  a  fortnight  later,  which  makes  a  great  difference 
as  to  warmth  and  keep  at  that  time  of  year. 

With  changes  of  dates  and  times  old  customs  and 
sayings  lose  their  force.  Under  the  "  daylight  saving  " 
arrangement  we  should  alter,  "  Rain  before  seven,  fine 
before  eleven,"  to  "  Rain  before  eight,  fine  before  twelve," 
which  spoils  the  rhyme.  And  "  Between  one  and  two, 
you'll  see  what  the  day  means  to  do,"  into,  "  Between  two 
and  three,  you'll  see  what  the  day  means  to  be." 

A  few  years  ago,  when  Antony  and  Cleopatra  was 
reproduced  at  a  London  theatre  by  an  eminent  actor- 
manager,  it  was  reported  that  his  mind  was  much  exer- 
cised over  the  lines  referring  to  the  flight  of  Pompey's 
galley: 

"The  breese  upon  her,  like  a  cow  in  June, 
Hoists  sails  and  flies." 

It  was  suggested  that  for  "  cow,"  the  correct  reading 
should  be  "  crow,"  who  might  very  well  spread  her  wings 
to  the  breeze  and  fly.  The  difficulty  was  caused  by  the 
word  "  breese  "  (the  gad-fly) — no  doubt  presumed  to  be 
an  archaic  spelling  of  "  breeze."  Shakespeare  knew  all 
about  farming,  as  about  nearly  everything  else,  and  a  year 
on  a  farm  would  illustrate  many  of  his  allusions  which  the 
ordinary  reader  finds  somewhat  cryptic;  anyone  who  has 
seen  the  terrified  stampede  of  cattle  with  their  tails  erect 
when  attacked  by  the  gad-fly,  will  recognize  the  force 
of  the  simile.  The  gad-fly  pierces  the  skin  of  the  animal, 
laying  its  eggs  beneath,  just  as  the  ichneumon  makes 
use  of  a  caterpillar  to  provide  a  host  for  its  progeny. 
No  doubt  the  operation  is  a  painful  one,  but  the  caterpillar 
may  survive,  even  into  its  chrysalis  stage,  and  the  cow 
in  due  time  is  relieved,  after  an  uncomfortable  experience, 
by  the  exit  of  the  maggot  or  fly. 

A  branch  of  the  Roman  road,  Ryknield  Street,  commonly 
called  Buckle  Street,  leaving  the  former  near  Bidford-on- 
Avon  and  running  over  the  Cotswolds  via  Weston  Subedge, 


CATTLE  157 

was  known  in  former  times  as  Buggilde  or  Buggeld  Street, 
derived  possibly  from  the  Latin  buculus,  a  young  bullock. 
No  doubt  vast  herds  of  cattle  traversed  the  road  from 
the  vale  to  the  hills,  or  vice  versa,  according  to  the  abun- 
dance of  keep  and  the  time  of  year.  Similar  roads  in 
Dorset  and  Wiltshire  are  still  known  as  "ox  droves," 
and  in  the  former  county,  at  least,  both  young  heifers 
and  bullocks  are  known  as  "  bullicks." 

Cattle  are  subject  to  all  manner  of  disorders  which, 
though  puzzlmg  to  the  owner  to  diagnose,  are  not  as 
a  rule  beyond  the  skill  of  a  good  veterinary  surgeon  to 
alleviate;  but  there  are  also  accidents  which  are  much 
more  annoying,  being  impossible  to  foresee.  I  had 
occasional  losses  from  the  latter  causes:  once  in  the 
night  when  a  cow  was  thrown  on  her  back  into  a  deep  brick 
manger;  and  once  when  a  small  piece  of  sacking,  part 
of  a  decorticated  cotton-cake  bag,  was  somehow  mixed 
in  with  the  food,  and  induced  internal  inflammation. 

It  is  a  difficult  matter  for  a  farmer  when  selling  fat 
cattle  direct  to  the  butcher,  to  compete  with  him  in  a 
correct  estimate  of  the  weight,  and  it  is  therefore  advisable 
to  sell  at  a  price  per  pound  of  the  dead  weight  when 
dressed;  this,  however,  is  not  always  feasible,  and  a 
very  close  estimate  can  be  arrived  at  by  measurement 
of  the  girth  and  length  of  the  live  animal,  following  rules 
laid  down  in  the  handbooks  on  the  subject  of  fat  stock. 
It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  fattening  of  stock  is 
a  profitable  undertaking  per  se.  On  all  arable  farms 
there  is  a  certain  amount  of  food,  hay,  straw,  chaff, 
roots,  etc.,  which  must  be  consumed  on  the  premises  for 
the  sake  of  keeping  up  the  fertility  of  the  land,  but  I 
believe  that  only  under  very  exceptional  circumstances 
can  a  shilling's-worth  of  food  and  attendance  be  con- 
verted into  a  shilling's-worth  of  meat,  so  that  if  in  the 
future  the  price  of  corn  is  to  fall  back  into  anything 
approaching  pre-war  values,  the  corn  crops,  as  well  as  the 
intermediate  green  crops,  which  are  only  a  means  for 
producing   corn,    must    be    discontinued,    and    the    land 


158  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


will  again  become  inferior  pasture.  Old-fashioned  farmers 
recognized  the  absence  of  direct  profit  in  the  winter  of 
fattening  cattle  especially  on  the  produce  of  arable  land, 
and  the  saying  is  well  known  that,  "  the  man  who  fattens 
many  bullocks  never  wants  much  paper  on  which  to  make 
his  will." 

There  are  few  pleasanter  sights  about  farm  premises 
than  to  see,  as  the  short  winter  day  is  drawing  to  an 
end,  and  the  twilight  is  stealing  around  the  ricks  and 
buildings,  a  nicely  sheltered  yard  full  of  contented  cattle 
deeply  bedded  down  in  clean  bright  wheat  straw,  and 
settling  themselves  comfortably  for  the  night;  and,  when 
one  pulls  the  bed-clothes  up  to  one's  ears,  one  can  go  to 
sleep  thinking  happily  that  they  too  are  enjoying  a 
refreshing  sleep.  Cattle  and  sheep  can  stand  severe  cold, 
if  they  are  sheltered  from  bitter  winds  and  have  dry  quarters 
in  which  to  lie;  even  lambs  are  none  the  worse  for  coming 
into  the  world  in  a  snow-covered  pasture;  and  an  opened 
stable  window  without  a  draught  will  often  cure  a  horse 
of  a  long-standing  chronic  cough.  It  was  pitiful  in  the 
early  days  of  the  war  to  see  the  Indian  troops  with  their 
mountain  batteries  at  Ashurst,  near  Lyndhurst,  in  the 
New  Forest,  the  mules  up  to  their  knees  and  hocks  in 
black  mud,  owing  to  the  unfortunate  selection  of  an 
unsound  site  for  the  camp. 

A  "  deadly  man  for  ship  " — one  of  those  expressions 
not  uncommon  in  Worcestershire,  on  the  lucus  a  non 
lucendo  principle — signifies  a  celebrated  sheep  breeder; 
the  word  "  deadly,"  in  this  sense,  is  akin  to  the  Hampshire 
and  Dorset  "terrible,"  or,  "turrble,"  as  a  term  of  ad- 
miration or  the  appreciation  of  excellence;  but  there  are 
occasions  even  in  the  most  carefully  tended  flocks 
where  accidents  cannot  be  anticipated.  Such  an  event 
occurred  to  a  Cotswold  ram,  which  after  washing  was 
placed  in  an  orchard  near  my  house  to  dry  before  shearing. 
The  ram  had  an  immense  fleece  on  him,  nineteen  pounds 
as  it  afterwards  proved,  and  the  wool  round  the  neck 
was  somewhat  ragged.     As  he  lay  asleep  with  his  head 


LAMBS  159 

turned  round  and  muzzle  pointing  backwards,  some  little 
movement  caused  his  head  to  become  entangled  in  the 
loose  wool,  and  he  was  found  hanged  in  his  own  fleece. 

I  was  watching,  with  my  bailiff,  a  splendid  lot  of 
lambs  fat  and  ready  for  the  butcher;  two  of  them  were 
having  a.  game — walking  backwards  from  each  other,  and 
suddenly  rushing  together  like  two  knights  in  a  medieval 
tournament,  their  heads  meeting  with  a  concussion  and 
a  resounding  smack — when  one  instantly  fell  to  the  ground 
with  a  broken  neck.  Had  no  one  been  present  the  meat 
would  have  been  worthless,  but  my  man  was  equal  to 
the  occasion,  and,  borrowing  my  pocket  knife,  produced 
the  flow  of  blood  necessary  to  render  the  meat  fit  for 
human  food.  My  villagers  had  a  feast  that  week,  and 
my  own  table  was  graced  by  an  excellent  joint  of  real 
English  lamb.  Of  course  we  never  attempted  to  consume 
any  of  the  meat  from  animals  which  had  been  killed 
when  suffering  from  a  doubtful  complaint,  though  some 
people  are  by  no  means  particular  in  this  matter. 

A  doctor  told  me  that  when  attending  a  case  at  a  farm- 
house he  was  invited  to  join  the  family  at  their  midday 
meal,  and  was  surprised  to  see  a  nice  fore-quarter  of  lamb 
on  the  table.  His  host  gave  him  an  ample  helping,  and 
he  had  just  made  a  beginning  with  it  and  the  mint  sauce, 
green  peas,  and  new  potatoes,  when  the  founder  of  the 
feast  announced  by  way  of  excusing  the  indulgence 
in  such  a  luxury:  "  This  un,  you  know  was  a  bit  casualty, 
so  we  thought  it  better  to  make  sure  of  un."  My  in- 
formant told  me  that  then  and  there  his  appetite  com- 
pletely failed,  and,  to  the  dismay  of  his  host  he  had  to 
relinquish  his  knife  and  fork. 

It  is  always  policy  to  kill  a  sheep  to  save  its  life,  as 
the  saying  is,  and  the  way  to  make  the  most  of  it  is  to 
send  any  fat  animal,  which  is  off  its  feed  and  looking  some- 
what thoughtful,  to  the  butcher  at  once.  He  knows  quite 
well  whether  the  sheep  is  fit  for  food,  and  if  he  decides 
against  it,  all  one  expects  is  the  value  of  the  skin.  But 
people  are  very  shy  of  buying  meat  about  which  they 


160  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

have  any  misgiving,  and  my  butcher  once  told  me  not 
to  send  him  an  "  emergency  sheep  "  in  one  of  my  own 
carts,  but  to  ask  him  to  fetch  it  himself:  "  It's  like  this," 
he  explained,  "  when  a  customer  comes  in  for  a  nice  joint 
of  mutton,  if  he  is  a  near  neighbour,  he  will  perhaps  add, 
'  I  would  rather  not  have  a  bit  of  the  sheep  that  came 
in  a  day  or  two  ago  in  one  of  Mr.  S.'s  carts  *  !" 

It  was  always  cheering  in  February,  "  fill  dyke,  be  it 
black  or  be  it  white,"  on  a  dark  morning,  to  hear  the 
young  lambs  and  their  mothers  calling  to  each  other  in 
the  orchards,  where  there  is  some  grass  all  the  year  round 
under  the  shelter  of  the  apple  trees;  or  when  a  spring- 
like morning  appears,  about  the  time  of  St.  Valentine's 
Day,  and  the  thrushes  are  singing  love-songs  to  their 
mates,  and  the  first  brimstone  butterfly  has  dared  to  leave 
his  winter  seclusion  for  the  fickle  sunshine,  to  realize  that 
Spring  is  coming,  and  the  active  work  of  the  farm  is  about 
to  reconunence.  There  is  a  superstition  that  when  the 
master  sees  the  firstling  of  the  flock,  if  its  head  is  turned 
towards  him,  good  luck  for  the  year  will  follow,  but  it  is 
most  unlucky  if  its  head  is  turned  away. 

After  the  disastrous  wet  season  of  1879  immense  losses 
ensued  from  the  prevalence  of  the  fatal  liver  rot;  many 
thousands  of  sheep  were  sold  at  the  auctions  for  3s.  or  4s. 
apiece,  and  sound  mutton  was  exceedingly  scarce  and 
dear.  It  was  represented  to  a  very  august  personage, 
that  if  the  people  could  be  induced  to  forgo  the  consump- 
tion of  lamb,  these  in  due  course  would  grow  into  sheep, 
and  the  price  of  mutton  would  be  reduced.  Accordingly 
an  order  was  issued  forbidding  the  appearance  of  lamb 
on  the  Court  tables.  It  had  not  occurred  to  the  proposer 
of  this  scheme  that  a  scarcity  of  food  for  the  developing 
lambs  would  result,  nor  was  it  understood  that  the  pro- 
ducers of  fat  lambs  make  special  cropping  arrangements 
for  their  keep,  with  the  object  of  clearing  out  their  stock 
about  Easter,  in  time  to  plough  the  ground,  and  follow 
the  roots  where  the  ewes  and  lambs  have  been  feeding, 
with  barley.     The  "  classes  "  copied  the  example  of  the 


LAMBS  161 

Court,  as  in  duty  bound,  and  the  demand  fell  to  zero. 
But  the  Iambs  had  to  be  sold  for  the  reasons  mentioned, 
and,  in  the  absence  of  the  usual  demand,  the  unfortunate 
producers  offered  them  at  almost  any  price.  The  miners 
and  the  pottery  workers  in  Staffordshire  were  not  so 
loyal  as  the  "classes";  they  welcomed  the  unusual 
opportunity  of  buying  early  lamb  at  9d.  a  pound,  and 
trains  composed  entirely  of  trucks  full  of  lambs  from  the 
south  of  England  to  the  Midlands  supplied  them  abun- 
dantly. 

The  edict,  when  its  effect  was  apparent,  was  therefore 
revoked,  but  it  was  too  late,  the  lambs  were  gone,  and 
as  everybody  was  hungry  for  his  usual  Easter  lamb, 
the  demand  was  immense,  and  the  price  rose  in  pro- 
portion. I  had  thirty  or  forty  lambs  intended  for  the 
Easter  markets,  and  had,  with  great  difficulty  and  the 
sacrifice  of  grass  which  should  have  stood  for  hay, 
managed  to  keep  them  on,  scarcely  knowing  what  to  do 
with  them.  But  the  sudden  demand  arose  just  in  time, 
and  I  sent  them  to  the  Alcester  auction  sale,  where  buyers 
from  Birmingham  and  the  neighbourhood  attend  in  large 
numbers.  A  capital  sale  resulted,  the  price  going  as 
high  as  60s.,  in  those  days  a  big  figure  for  lambs  about 
four  months  old.  I  was  so  pleased  with  the  result  and 
my  deliverance  from  the  dilemma,  that,  passing  through 
the  town  on  my  way  home,  and  spying  an  old  Worcester 
china  cup  and  saucer,  and  a  bowl  of  the  same,  all  with 
the  rare  square  mark,  I  invested  some  of  my  plunder 
in  what  time  has  proved  an  excellent  speculation,  and 
my  cabinet  is  still  decorated  with  these  mementoes, 
which  I  never  see  without  calling  to  mind  the  story  of  the 
lamb  edict  and  its  result. 

During  the  Great  War  some  controlling  wiseacre  evolved 
precisely  the  same  scheme  for  bringing  about  an  imaginary 
increase  in  the  supply  of  mutton,  by  prohibiting  the 
slaughter  of  any  lambs  until  June.  The  Dorset  breeders, 
who  buy  in  ewes  at  high  prices  for  the  special  production 
of  early  lamb — the  lambs  of  this  breed  are  born  in  October 

11 


162  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


and  November — were  more  particularly  affected,  and 
the  absurdity  of  the  prohibition  having  been  later  re- 
presented to  the  authorities,  the  order  was  withdrawn, 
though  not  before  great  loss  and  difficulty  were  inflicted 
upon  the  unfortunate  producers.  It  goes  to  prove  the 
necessity  of  the  administration  of  such  matters  by  com- 
petent men,  and  how  easily  apparently  sound  theory 
in  inexperienced  hands  may  conflict  with  economical 
practice. 

Of  late  years  the  competition  of  the  importations  of 
New  Zealand  lamb  has  reduced  the  price  of  English  lamb 
to  an  unremunerative  level.  This  thin  dry  stuff  bears 
about  the  same  resemblance  to  real  fat  home-grown  lamb, 
as  do  the  proverbial  chalk  and  cheese  to  each  other; 
but  it  is  good  enough  for  the  restaurants  and  eating- 
houses;  and  the  consumer  who  lacks  the  critical  faculty 
of  the  connoisseur  in  such  matters,  devours  his  "  Can- 
terbury "  lamb,  well  disguised  with  mint  sauce,  in  sublime 
ignorance,  and,  apparently,  without  missing  the  succulence 
of  the  real  article- — convinced  as  he  is  that  it  was  produced 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  cathedral  city  of  the  same 
name,  and  unaware  of  the  existence  of  such  a  place  as 
Canterbury  in  New  Zealand,  or  that  the  name,  if  not 
exactly  a  fraud,  is  calculated  to  mislead.  Doubtless  it 
is  the  mint  sauce  that  satisfies  the  uncritical  palate. 
Just  as  the  boy  who,  when  asked  after  a  treat  of  oysters 
how  he  liked  them,  said  with  gusto,  "  The  oysters  was 
good,  but  the  vinegar  and  pepper  was  c^dicious  !" 

It  is  well  known  that  there  is  a  tendency  among 
men  in  charge  of  special  kinds  of  domestic  animals 
gradually  to  approximate  to  them  in  appearance,  and  we 
are  told  that  men  sometimes  gradually  acquire  a  re- 
semblance to  men  they  admire.  I  knew  a  pedigree-pig 
herdsman,  very  successful  in  the  show-ring,  who  was 
curiously  like  his  charges,  and  I  had  at  least  two  shepherds 
whose  profiles  were  extraordinarily  sheepish — though  not 
in  the  ordinary  acceptation  of  the  term.  Such  an  ap- 
pearance  confers    a   singularly   simple    expression.       It 


PIGS  168 

must  have  been  a  man  whose  character  justified  such  a 
facial  peculiarity,  who,  having  to  bring  the  flock  of  one 
of  my  neighbours  over  a  railway  crossing  between  two 
of  his  fields,  neglected  to  open  the  further  gate  first, 
drove  the  sheep  on  to  the  rails,  and  proceeded  to  do  so, 
only  to  find  the  sheep,  in  the  meantime,  had  wandered 
down  the  line.  Before  he  could  collect  them  a  train 
dashed  into  them,  and  many  were  killed  and  others 
injured.  The  railway  company  not  only  repudiated 
all  liability,  but  sent  in  a  counterclaim  for  damage  to 
their  engine  ! 

But  the  tables  were  turned  morally,  if  not  actually, 
by  a  friend  of  mine,  who  certainly  scored  off  a  railway 
company.  My  friend's  waggon,  with  two  horses  and  a 
load  of  hay,  was  passing  over  a  level  crossing  on  his 
land,  when  the  London  express  came  into  view  slinging 
downhill  in  all  the  majesty  of  triumphant  speed,  but 
far  enough  away  to  be  brought  up  in  time,  ignominiously 
and  abruptly.  The  railway  company  wrote  my  friend  a 
letter  of  remonstrance  suggestive  of  pains  and  penalties,  and 
telling  him  that  his  waggoner  should  have  made  sure  of  the 
safety  of  crossing  before  attempting  it — not  an  easy  thing 
to  do  at  this  particular  place.  My  friend  replied  that  his 
right  of  way  existed  centuries  before  the  railway  was 
dreamed  of,  that  the  crossing  was  a  concession  for  the  com- 
pany's convenience,  it  had  saved  the  expense  of  a  bridge, 
and  that  his  hay  was  an  urgent  matter  in  view  of  the 
weather  ;  and  that  uninterrupted  harvesting  was  of  more 
importance  than  the  punctualitj'^  of  their  passengers. 

I  have  sometimes  passed  through  a  remote  village  on  a 
Sunday  where  the  obsequies  of  a  pig  were  to  be  seen  in 
full  view  from  the  road ;  these  were  usually  places  where 
the  church]  was  in  an  adjoining  mother-parish,  and  of 
course  there  are  times  when,  for  reasons  of  health  or 
perhaps  more  correctly  ill-health,  it  is  impossible  to  defer 
the  ceremony.  As  a  rule,  I  should  imagine  that  greater 
privacy  is  sought,  at  any  rate  so  far  as  the  public  point 
of  view  is  concerned.     One  remembers  the  story  of  the 


164  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


man  doing  some  Sunday  carpentering;  his  wile  expostulated 
with  him  as  a  Sabbath  breaker  ;  he  repHed  that  in  driving 
in  the  nails  he  could  not  help  making  some  noise ;  "  then 
why,"  said  she,  "  don't  you  use  screws  ?" 

An  old  Dorset  labourer  who  helped  with  the  removal 
of  the  pig-wash,  and  did  other  small  jobs  for  successive 
tenants  of  mine  at  a  furnished  cottage  on  my  land  in 
Hampsliire,  invariably  estimated  the  social  status  and 
resources  of  each  new  tenant  by  the  consistency  of  the 
wash.  When  some  rather  extravagant  occupiers  were 
in  possession,  he  reported  them  as,  "  Quite  the  right  sort; 
their  wash  is  real  good,  thick  stulf."  The  villagers  at 
Aldington  did  not  smoke  their  bacon,  but,  as  it  usually 
hung  in  the  kitchen  not  far  from  the  big  open  hearth, 
and  as  the  place  was  often  full  of  fragrant  wood  smoke, 
the  bacon  acquired  a  pleasant  suggestion  of  the  smoked 
article  of  the  southern  counties.  The  cottagers  rarely 
complained  of  the  smoky  state  of  their  kitchens,  consoling 
themselves  with  the  saying,  "  'Tis  better  to  be  smoke- 
dried  nor  starred  [starved  with  the  cold]  to  death." 
Bacon  naturally  suggests  eggs;  many  of  the  villagers 
kept  a  few  fowls  which  sometimes  strayed  into  my 
orchards;  as  a  rule,  I  made  no  objection,  but  it  was  not 
pleasing,  when  the  apples  were  over-ripe  and  dropping 
from  the  trees,  to  notice  the  destructive  marks  of  their 
beaks  on  some  extra  fine  Blenheim  oranges. 

My  wife  determined  to  take  over  our  fowls  into  her  own 
jurisdiction;  hitherto  they  had  been  under  my  bailiff's 
care,  and  he  rather  resented  the  change  as  an  implication 
on  his  management,  until  it  was  explained  that  she  was 
anxious  to  undertake  the  poultry  as  a  hobby.  One  of  the 
carter  boys  was  detailed  to  collect  the  eggs,  as  some  of  the 
hen-houses  were  in  out-of-the-way  corners  of  the  yards 
and  difficult  to  approach.  My  wife  thought  the  middle- 
man was  appropriating  most  of  the  profit;  she  was  deter- 
mined to  get  as  directly  to  the  consumer  as  possible  and, 
among  others,  she  arranged  with  the  head  of  a  large  school 
for  a  weekly  supply  of  dairy  and  poultry  produce.     All 


POULTRY  165 


went  well  for  a  time  until  one  day  the  boy,  anxious 
to  produce  as  many  eggs  as  possible,  as  he  received  a 
royalty  per  dozen  for  collecting,  discovered  some  nests 
which  my  man  had  set  for  hatching  before  he  retired 
from  the  post.  The  boy,  not  recognizing  this  important 
fact,  came  in  greatly  pleased  with  an  unusually  large 
quantity,  and  it  so  happened  that  the  school  received 
the  eggs  from  this  special  lot.  Next  morning  forty  eggs 
appeared  at  the  boys'  breakfast  table,  and  forty  boys 
simultaneously  suffered  a  terrible  shock  on  the  discovery 
of  forty  incomplete  chickens.  The  head  wrote  an  aggrieved 
letter  of  complaint,  and  though  my  wife  was  by  that  time 
able  to  explain  the  matter,  and  regret  her  own  loss  too 
of  forty  chickens,  he  removed  his  custom  to  a  more  reliable 
source. 

This  schoolmaster  was  a  collector  of  antique  furniture 
and  china,  and,  knowing  that  I  was  interested,  he  asked 
me  to  come  and  see  some  Chippendale  chairs  he  had  just 
acquired.  It  happened  that  some  months  before  I  had 
declined  to  buy  four  or  five  chairs  that  were  offered  at 
10s.  apiece.  I  had  not  then  fully  developed  the  taste 
for  the  antique,  which  once  acquired  forbids  the  con- 
noisseur to  refuse  anything  good,  whether  really  wanted 
or  not,  and  at  that  time  there  was  much  more  choice 
in  such  matters  than  at  the  present  day.  The  chairs  were 
very  dilapidated  and  I  did  not  recognize  their  possibilities, 
but  I  noticed  the  arms  of  the  elbow  chairs  were  parti- 
cularly good,  being  carved  at  the  junction  of  the  horizontal 
and  vertical  pieces  with  eagles'  heads.  Deciding  that 
I  did  not  want  them  I  sent  a  dealer  to  the  house  and 
forgot  all  about  the  matter.  The  schoolmaster  took  me 
into  his  drawing-room,  and  I  instantly  recognized  the 
set  I  had  refused;  they  were  quite  transformed,  nicely 
cleaned,  lightly  polished,  and  the  seats  newly  covered. 
I  duly  admired  them,  and  on  inquiry  found  that  he  had 
purchased  them  in  Worcester  from  the  dealer  I  had  sent 
to  look  at  them;  they  cost  him  £5  each,  and  I  suppose  at 
the  present  time  they  would  be  worth  £20  apiece  at  least. 


166  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

I  have  previously  mentioned  old  Viper  as  a  family 
friend,  but  like  all  dogs  he  had  his  faults.  He  acquired 
a  liking  for  new  laid  eggs  and  hunted  the  rickyard  for 
nests  in  the  straw.  My  baihff  determined  to  cure  him; 
he  carefully  blew  an  egg,  and  filled  it  with  a  mixture  of 
which  mustard  was  the  chief  component.  Viper  was 
tempted  to  sample  the  egg,  which  he  accepted  with  a 
great  show  of  innocence  ;  the  effect  when  he  had  broken 
the  shell  was  electrical  ;  he  fled  with  dowTicast  tail  and 
complete  dejection,  and  nothing  would  ever  induce  him 
to  touch  an  egg  again. 

The  whirligig  of  time  has  indeed  brought  its  revenge 
in  the  matter  of  the  market  value  of  eggs.  In  Worcester- 
shire we  have  had  to  give  them  away  at  eighteen  or  twenty 
for  a  shilling;  last  (1918-1919)  winter  we  sold  some  at  7s.  a 
dozen,  and  many  more  at  5s. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

ORCHARDS— APPLES— CIDER— PERRY 

"  Lo  !  sweetened  with  the  summer  Hght, 
The  full-juiced  apple,  waxing  over-mellow 
Drops  in  a  silent  autumn  night." 

The  Lotus-Eaters. 

A  curious  old  punning  Latin  line,  illustrating  various 
meanings  of  the  word  mains,  an  apple,  seems  appropriate, 
as  a  commencement,  to  writing  about  apples  ;  it  is  I  think 
very  little  known,  and  too  good  to  be  forgotten.  Malo, 
malo,  malo,  malo  ;  it  is  translated  thus: 

'■''Malo,  I  would  rather  be, 
Malo,  in  an  apple-tree, 
Malo,  than  a  bad  boy, 
Malo,  in  adversity." 

The  fruit  was  an  important  item  on  the  Aldington 
Manor  Farm,  and  when  later  I  bought  an  adjoining  farm 
of  seventy  acres  with  orcharding,  and  had  planted  nine 
acres  of  plum  trees,  my  total  fruit  area  amounted  to  about 
thirty  acres.  There  was  a  saying  in  the  neighbourhood 
which  pleased  me  greatly,  that  "  it  was  always  harvest  at 
Aldington";  it  was  not  so  much  intended  to  signify 
that  there  was  always  something  coming  in,  as  to  convey 
an  impression  of  the  constant  activity  and  employment 
of  labour  that  continued  throughout  the  seasons  without 
intermission,  though  it  was  true  that  with  the  diversity 
of  my  crops  and  stock,  there  was  a  more  or  less  continuous 
return.  I  had  a  shock  when  an  old  friend  in  a  neighbouring 
village  spoke  of  me  as  a  "  pomologist,"  the  title  seemed 
much  too  distinguished,  and  personally  I  have  never 
claimed  the  right  to  anything  better  than  the  rather 
pretty  old  title  of  "  orchardist." 

167 


168  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

The  position  of  an  orchard  is  of  the  utmost  importance; 
shelter  is  necessary,  but  it  must  be  above  the  ordinary 
spring  frost  level  of  the  district.  I  should  say  that  no 
orchard  should  be  less  than  150  feet  above  sea-level,  to 
be  fairly  safe,  and  200  feet  would  in  nearly  any  ordinary 
spring  be  quite  secure  against  frost.  The  climate  has  a 
remarkable  effect  upon  the  colour  of  apples,  and  colour 
is  one  of  the  most  valuable  of  market  properties,  for  the 
ordinary  town  buyer  is  a  poor  judge  of  the  merits  of 
apples  and  prefers  colour  and  size  to  most  other  con- 
siderations. Here  in  the  south  of  England  seven  miles 
from  the  sea,  in  a  dry  and  sunny  climate,  all  apples  develop 
a  much  more  brilliant  colour  than  in  the  moist  climate  of 
the  Vale  of  Evesham. 

I  fear  that  very  few  planters  of  fruit  trees  think  of 
following  the  routine  which  Virgil  describes  in  his  second 
Georgic,  as  practised  by  the  careful  orchardist,  when 
transplanting.     Dryden's  translation  is  as  follows: 

"  Some  peasants,  not  t'  omit  the  nicest  care, 
Of  the  same  soil  their  nursery  prepare 
With  that  of  their  plantation ;  lest  the  tree, 
Translated  should  not  with  the  soil  agree. 
Beside,  to  plant  it  as  it  was,  they  mark 
The  heav'ns  four  quarters  on  the  tender  bark, 
And  to  the  north  or  south  restore  the  side, 
Which  at  their  birth  did  heat  or  cold  abide: 
So  strong  is  custom;  such  effects  can  use 
In  tender  souls  of  pliant  plants  produce." 

Virgil  was  born  in  the  year  70  b.c,  and  died,  age  51,  in 
19  B.C.,  so  that  over  nineteen  centuries  have  elapsed 
since  these  words  were  written;  as  he  was  an  excellent 
farmer,  he  would  not  have  mentioned  the  practice  unless 
he  considered  the  advice  sound.  It  is  quite  possible 
that  the  vertical  cracking  of  the  bark  on  one  side  of  a 
young  transplanted  tree  may  be  due  to  a  change  from 
the  cool  north  aspect  to  the  heat  of  the  south.  At  any 
rate  the  experiment  is  well  worth  trying,  and  nursery- 
men would  not  find  it  much  trouble  to  run  a  chalk  line 
down  the  south  side  of  each  tree,  when  lifting  them,  a» 
a  guide  for  the  purchaser. 


APPLES  169 

As  showing  how  conservative  is  the  popular  demand 
for  apples,  Cox's  Orange  Pippin,  which  is  absolutely 
unapproached  for  flavour,  and  is  perfectly  sound  and 
eatable  from  early  in  November  till  Easter  if  carefully 
picked  at  the  right  moment  and  properly  stored,  was 
cultivated  thirty  or  forty  years  before  the  British  public 
discovered  its  extraordinary  qualities  !  I  find  it  described 
as  one  of  the  best  dessert  apples  in  Dr.  Hogg's  Fruit 
Manual,  and  my  copy  is  the  third  edition  published  in 
1866,  so  it  must  have  been  well  known  to  him  some  years 
previously,  though  we  never  heard  much  about  it  until 
after  the  twentieth  century  came  in.  Though  the  colour, 
when  well  grown,  is  highly  attractive  to  the  connoisseur, 
the  ordinary  buyer  did  not  readily  take  to  it  as  it  is  rather 
small.  In  1917  Cox's  Orange  Pippin,  however,  really 
came  into  its  own;  I  myself,  here  in  the  New  Forest, 
grew  over  3,000  pounds  on  about  120  trees  planted  in 
1906,  each  branch  pruned  as  a  cordon,  and  very  thinly 
dispersed,  and  the  trees  restricted  to  a  height  of  about 
14  feet.  The  apples  were  mostly  sold  in  Covent  Garden 
at  6d.  a  pound,  clear  of  railway  carriage  and  salesmen's 
commission.  In  1918,  a  year  of  great  scarcity,  these 
apples  were  selling  in  the  London  shops  up  to  3s.  6d. 
apiece  !  Now  that  its  reputation  is  fully  established,  it 
is  likely  to  be  many  years  before  it  becomes  relatively 
low  in  price,  as  the  foreign  apples  of  this  kind  cannot 
compare  in  flavour  with  those  grown  in  our  own  orchards. 
I  appreciate  the  man  whose  attention  was  wholly  given  to 
some  particularly  dainty  dish,  and,  being  bored  at  the 
table  by  a  persistent  talker,  gently  said,  "  Hush  !  and  let 
me  listen  to  the  flavour." 

As  an  early  market  apple  there  is  none  more  popular 
than  the  Worcester  Pearmain,  first  grown  in  the  early 
eighties  by  Messrs.  R.  Smith  and  Co.,  of  Worcester,  and 
said  to  be  a  cross  between  King  of  the  Pippins  and  the  old 
Quarrenden  (nearly  always  called  Quarantine).  It  is  a 
most  attractive  fruit — brilliant  in  colour,  medium  size, 
with  pleasant  brisk  flavour — and  is  an  early  and  regular 


170  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


bearer.  I  recognized  its  possibilities  as  soon  as  I  saw  it, 
and  getting  all  the  grafts  I  could  collect,  and  they  were 
very  scarce  at  the  time,  I  had  the  branches  of  some  of 
my  old  worthless  trees  cut  off,  and  set  my  old  grafter  to 
convert  them  into  Worcester  Pearmains;  they  soon 
came  into  bearing  and  produced  abundant  and  profitable 
crops. 

This  apple  is  not  much  use  for  keeping  beyond  a 
month  or  so,  as  it  soon  loses  its  crisp  texture  and  dis- 
tinctive flavour,  and  it  is  its  earliness  and  colour  that 
makes  it  so  popular  in  its  season.  Its  regularity 
as  a  bearer  is  due  to  its  early  maturity;  it  can  be  picked 
in  August,  which  allows  plenty  of  time,  in  favourable 
weather,  for  next  year's  fruit  buds  to  develop  before 
winter;  whereas  with  the  late  sorts  these  buds  have 
very  little  chance  to  mature  while  the  current  year's  fruit 
is  ripening,  with  the  result  that  a  blank  season  nearly 
always  follows  an  abundant  yield.  The  Worcester 
Pearmain  is  so  highly  decorative,  with  its  large  pale 
pink  and  white  blossoms  in  spring  and  its  glowing  red 
fruit  in  autumn,  that  it  would  be  worth  growing  for 
these  qualities  alone  in  the  amateur's  garden,  and  in  any 
case  it  is  an  apple  that  nobody  should  be  without. 

An  old  apple,  not  sufficiently  known,  is  the  Rosemary 
Russet;  it  has  the  distinctive  russet-bronze  colouring, 
always  indicative  of  flavour,  with  a  rosy  flush  on  the  sunny 
side,  and  Dr.  Hogg  describes  it  further  as,  "  flesh  yellow, 
crisp,  tender,  very  juicy,  sugary  and  highly  aromatic — 
a  first-rate  dessert  apple,  in  use  from  December  to 
February."  In  my  opinion  it  comes  next,  though  longo 
intervallo,  to  Cox's  Orange  Pippin,  but  it  wants  good  land 
to  make  the  best  of  it.  It  may  with  confidence  be  produced 
as  a  rarity  across  the  walnuts  and  the  wine  to  the  con- 
nossieur  in  apples. 

In  Covent  Garden  Market  King  Pippins  are  known  as 
"Kings";  Cox's  Orange  Pippins  as  "C.O.P.'s";  Cellinis 
as  "Selinas";  Kerry  pippins  as  "  Careys  " ;  Court  pendu 
plat  as  "Corpendus";  and  the  pear,  Josephine  de  M alines 


APPLES  171 

as  "  Joseph  on  the  palmgs  "  !  The  Wellington  is  sold 
as  "  Wellington,"  but  in  the  markets  of  the  large  northern 
towns  it  is  known  as  *'  Normanton  Wonder." 

In  Worcestershire  St.  Swithin's  Day,  July  15,  is  called 
"  apple-christening  day,"  when  a  good  rain  often  gives 
a  great  impetus  to  their  growth,  and  a  little  later  great 
quantities  of  small  apples  may  be  seen  under  the  trees; 
this  is  Nature's  method  of  limiting  the  crop  to  reasonable 
proportions,  the  weak  ones  falling  off  and  the  fittest 
surviving.  The  inexperienced  grower  may  be  somewhat 
alarmed  by  this  apparent  destruction  of  his  prospects, 
but  the  older  hand  knows  better,  and  my  bailiff  always 
said:  "  When  I  sees  plenty  of  apples  under  the  trees  about 
midsummer,  I  knows  there'll  be  plenty  to  pick  towards 
Michaelmas." 

The  Blenheim  Orange  was  the  leading  apple  at  Aldington ; 
some  kind  person  had,  sixty  or  seventy  years  before  my 
time,  planted  a  number  of  trees  which  had  thriven  wonder- 
fully on  that  rich  land.  The  Blenheim  is  a  nice  dessert 
apple  and  a  splendid  "  cooker  " ;  the  trees  take  many  years 
to  come  into  bearing,  and  then  they  make  up  for  lost 
time.  Nature  is  never  in  a  hurry  to  produce  her  best 
results.  As  a  market  apple  the  Blenheim  has  a  great 
reputation;  if  an  Evesham  fruit  dealer  was  asked  if  he 
could  do  with  any  apples,  his  first  question  was  always: 
"  Be  'em  Blemmins  ?" 

"  September  blow  soft  till  the  fruit's  in  the  loft,"  is  the 
prayer  of  all  apple  growers;  it  is  pitiful  to  see,  after  a 
roaring  gale,  the  ground  strewn  with  beautiful  fruit, 
bruised  and  broken,  useless  to  keep,  and  only  suitable  for 
carting  away  to  the  all-devouring  cider-mill,  though,  even 
for  that  purpose,  the  sweet  Blenheim  does  not  produce 
nearly  so  good  a  drink  as  sourer  accredited  cider 
varieties. 

Many  of  the  gardening  papers  will  name  apples  if 
sent  by  readers  for  identification;  I  was  told  of  an  enquirer 
who  sent  twelve  apples  from  the  same  tree,  and  received 
eleven  different   names   and   one    "  unknown  "  !     Apples 


172  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


off  the  same  tree  do  differ  wonderfully,  but  I  can  scarcely 
credit  this  story. 

It  was  the  custom  formerly  at  Aldington  to  sell  the 
fruit  on  the  trees  by  auction  for  the  buyer  to  pick  and 
market,  growers  as  a  rule  being  too  busy  with  corn- 
harvest  to  attend  to  the  gathering.  A  considerable  sum 
was  thereby  often  sacrificed,  as  the  buyer  allows  an  ample 
margin  for  risks,  and  is  not  willing  to  give  more  than  about 
half  of  what  he  expects  to  receive  ultimately.  I  dis- 
continued the  auction  sales  early  in  my  farming,  preferring 
to  take  the  risks  myself,  and  having  plenty  of  labour 
available.  It  is  instructive  too  to  know  how  individual 
trees  are  bearing,  and  the  sorts  which  produce  the  best 
returns. 

Except  for  the  choicest  fruit,  I  consider  London  the 
worst  market,  and  I  could  do  better,  as  a  rule,  by  sending 
my  consignments  to  Manchester,  Liverpool,  Sheffield, 
and  Glasgow;  the  latter  especially  for  large  coarse  stuff. 
London  is  more  critical,  pays  well  for  the  very  best,  but 
requires  apples  to  be  carefully  graded,  and  the  grades 
separately  packed ;  London  is,  moreover,  naturally  well 
supplied  by  the  southern  counties. 

At  the  auctions  the  competition  was  generally  keen, 
there  being  much  rivalry  between  the  buyers;  and  it  was 
good  for  the  sellers  when  political  parties  were  opposed 
to  each  other,  for  in  those  days  Evesham  was  inclined  to  be 
rather  violent  in  such  matters.  I  remember  a  lively 
contest  between  Conservatives  and  Radicals,  when  my 
largest  orchard  —  about  six  acres  —  was  sold  to  the 
champion  of  the  former  for  £210,  and  the  Radical  exclaimed, 
as  the  lot  was  knocked  down,  for  everybody  to  hear  :  "  He 
offered  me  £10  before  the  sale  to  stand  out,  now  that  £10  is 
in  Mr.  S.'s  pocket  !  " 

A  few  strong  gales  in  the  winter  are  supposed  to  benefit 
apple-trees,  acting  as  a  kind  of  root  pruning;  but  sometimes, 
when  they  are  getting  old,  they  come  down  bodily  with 
a  crash,  partly  uprooted,  though  even  then  they  may  be 


APPLES  17« 

resuscitated  for  a  time.  We  had  a  powerful  set  of  pulley 
tackle  by  which,  when  made  fast  to  a  neighbouring  tree, 
they  could  be  restored  to  the  perpendicular,  after  enlarging 
the  hole  left  by  the  roots,  making  the  ground  firm  again 
round  the  tree,  and  placing  a  strong  sloping  prop  to  take 
the  weight  on  the  weak  side  ;  good  yields  would  then  often 
continue  for  some  years. 

When  the  pickers  had  gathered  the  crop,  by  an  ancient 
custom  all  the  village  children  were  allowed  to  invade  the 
orchards  for  the  purpose  of  getting  for  themselves  any 
apples  overlooked.  This  practice  is  called  "scragging," 
but  it  is  a  custom  that  would  perhaps  be  better  honoured 
in  the  breach  than  in  the  observance,  for  hob  nails  do  not 
agree  with  the  tender  bark  of  young  trees.  Like  gleaning, 
or  "  leasing,"  as  it  is  called,  it  is  nevertheless  a  pleasant 
old  custom,  and  seems  to  give  the  children  huge 
delight. 

Mistletoe  did  not  find  my  apple-trees  congenial,  there 
was  only  one  piece  on  all  my  fruit  land,  and  it  was  regarded 
as  something  of  a  curiosity.  But  in  other  parts  of  the 
neighbourhood  it  flourished  abundantly,  though  I  noticed 
that  it  was  most  frequent  where  the  land  was  poorer  and 
the  trees  not  so  luxuriant.  It  was  also  to  be  seen  on  tall 
black  poplars,  and  I  have  a  piece — planted  purposely — on 
a  hawthorn  in  my  garden  here.  It  grows  in  parts  of  the 
Forest,  especially  on  the  white-beams  in  Sloden,  in  curiously 
small  detached  pieces  like  lichen.  The  white-beam  was  a 
favourite  tree  of  the  Romans  for  the  wood-work  of  agri- 
cultural implements,  being  tough  and  strong. 

Mistletoe  is  quite  easy  to  propagate  by  rubbing  the 
glutinous  berries  and  their  seeds  on  the  under  side  of  a 
small  branch  at  the  angle  where  it  joins  a  limb.  There  it 
will  often  flourish  unless  snapped  up  by  a  wandering  missel- 
thrush.  It  is  very  slow  in  growth,  but,  when  it  attains  a 
fair  size,  is  strikingly  pretty  in  winter  when  the  tree  is 
otherwise  bare,  for  its  peculiar  shade  of  faded  green, 
with  its  white  and  glistening  berries,  makes  an  unusual 


174  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


effect — quite  different  from  that  of  any  other  green  thing. 
It  is  rare  on  the  oak,  and,  possibly  for  that  reason,  the 
Druids  regarded  the  oak  upon  which  it  grew  as  sacred. 

The  transition  from  apples  to  cider  is  a  natural  one, 
and  cider  is  a  great  institution  in  Worcestershire.  On  all 
the  larger  farms,  and  in  every  village,  an  ancient  cider- 
mill  can  be  found.  It  consists  of  a  circular  block  of 
masonry,  perhaps  ten  feet  in  diameter,  the  outer  circum- 
ference of  which  is  a  continuous  stone  trough,  about 
18  inches  across,  and  15  inches  deep,  called  "  the  chase," 
in  which  a  huge  grindstone,  weighing  about  15  cwt., 
revolves  slowly,  actuated  by  a  horse  walking  round  the 
chase  in  an  unending  circle.  The  apples  are  introduced 
in  small  quantities  into  the  chase,  and  crushed  into  pulp 
by  the  grindstone.  The  pulp  is  then  removed  and  placed 
between  hair  cloths,  piled  upon  each  other,  until  a 
stack  is  erected  beneath  a  powerful  press,  worked  by  a 
lever,  on  the  principle  of  a  capstan.  As  the  pressure 
increases,  the  liquor  runs  into  a  vessel  below,  from  whence 
it  is  carried  in  buckets,  and  poured  into  barrels  in  the 
cellar.  Fermentation  begins  almost  immediately,  by 
which  the  sugar  is  converted  in  carbonic  acid  gas  and 
alcohol;  the  gas  escapes  and  the  spirit  remains  in  the 
liquor. 

Such  is  the  simplest  method  of  cider-making,  and  it 
produces  a  drink  thoroughly  appreciated  by  the  men, 
for  we  made  annually  1,500  to  2,000  gallons,  and  there 
was  very  little  left  when  next  year's  cider-making  began. 
Where  cider  is  made  for  sale,  much  greater  care  is  necessary; 
only  the  soundest  fruit  is  used,  and  the  vinous  fermenta- 
tion is  allowed  to  begin  in  open  vessels  before  the  pulp 
is  pressed.  When  the  extracted  liquor  is  placed  in  the 
barrels  every  effort  is  made  to  prevent  the  acetic  fermen- 
tation, which  produces  vinegar,  and  spoils  the  cider  for 
discriminating  palates.  The  stone  mill  has  been  super- 
seded to  some  extent  by  the  steam  "  scratter  "  ;  but  the 
cider  is  not  considered  so  good,  as  the  kernels  are  left 


CIDER  175 

uncrushed,  an  important  omission,  as  they  add  largely 
to  the  flavour  of  the  finished  product.  After  a  hot  dry 
summer,  cider  is  unusually  strong,  because  the  sugar  in  the 
apples  is  much  more  fully  developed.  It  is  recognized  that 
these  hot  summers  produce  what  are  known  as  vintage 
years  for  cider,  just  as,  on  the  Continent,  they  produce 
vintage  wines. 

Jarge,  of  whom  I  have  written,  was  the  presiding 
genius  in  the  cider-mill,  and  his  duties  began  as  soon 
as  hop-picking  was  over.  All  traces  of  the  downward 
inclination  of  the  corners  of  his  mouth,  caused  by  the 
delinquencies  of  recalcitrant  hoppers,  quite  disappeared 
as  soon  as  his  new  duties  commenced,  and  it  was  a  pleasure 
to  see  his  jovial  face  beaming  over  a  job  which  seemed  to 
have  no  drawbacks.  A  really  Bacchanalian  presence  is 
the  only  one  that  should  be  tolerated  in  a  cider-maker; 
the  lean  and  hungry  character  is  quite  out  of  place  amidst 
the  fragrance  of  the  crushed  apples,  and  the  generous 
liquor  running  from  the  press. 

The  cider-maker  is  always  allowed  a  liberal  quantity 
of  last  year's  produce,  on  the  principle  of  "  thou  shalt  not 
muzzle  the  ox  when  hetreadeth  out  the  corn  " — a  principle 
that  should  always  be  recognized  in  the  labourer's  hire, 
and  one  which  is  too  often  forgotten  by  the  public  in  its 
estimate  of  the  necessities  of  the  farmer  himself.  It  is 
usual  for  the  man  in  possession,  so  to  speak,  of  the  cider- 
mill,  to  mix,  for  his  own  consumption,  some  of  the  new 
unfermented  liquor  with  the  old  cider,  which,  after  twelve 
months,  is  apt  to  be  excessively  sour;  but  the  quantity 
of  the  former  must  not  be  in  too  large  a  proportion,  as 
it  has  a  powerful  medicinal  effect. 

"  Wouldst  thou  thy  vats  with  generous  juice  should  frotli  ? 
Respect  thy  orchats:  think  not  that  the  trees 
Spontaneous  will  produce  a  wholesome  draught, 
Let  art  correct  thy  breed." 

So  sang  Philips  in  his  Cyder  in  the  distant  days  of  1706, 
but  the  advice  is  as  sound  as  ever,  for  good  cider  can  only 


176  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

be  produced  from  the  right  kinds  of  apples.  The  names 
of  new  sorts  are  legion,  but  some  of  the  old  varieties  are 
still  considered  to  be  very  valuable.  Among  these,  the 
Foxwhelp  has  been  a  favourite  for  200  years,  and  others 
in  great  esteem  are  Skyrme's  Kernal,  Forest  Styre, 
Hagloe  Crab,  Dymock  Red,  Bromley,  Cowarne  Red,  and 
Styre  Wilding.  It  requires  about  twenty  "  pots "  (a 
local  measure  each  weighing  64  pounds)  to  make  a  hogs- 
head of  cider;  a  hogshead  is  roughly  100  gallons,  and  in 
Worcestershire  is  hardly  recognizable  under  the  name  of 
"  oxsheard  " — I  have  never  seen  the  word  in  print,  but 
the  local  pronunciation  is  faithfully  represented  by  my 
spelling.  Another  local  appellation  which  puzzled  me 
for  some  years  was  "  crab  varges,"  which  I  eventually 
discovered  to  mean  "  verjuice,"  a  terribly  sour  liquid, 
made  in  the  same  way  as  cider  from  crab  apples.  It 
was  considered  a  wonderfully  stimulating  specific  for 
sprains  and  strains,  holding  the  same  pre-eminent  position 
as  an  embrocation,  as  did  "  goose-grace  "  (goose-grease) 
as  an  ointment  or  emollient.  This  substance  is  the 
melted  fat  of  a  goose,  and  was  said  to  be  so  powerful  that,  if 
applied  to  the  back  of  the  hand,  it  could  shortly  be  recog- 
nized on  the  palm  ! 

The  value  of  alcohol  as  a  food  is  generally  denied  in  these 
days  by  sedentary  people,  but  very  few  who  have  seen  its 
judicious  use  in  agricultural  work  will  be  inclined  to  agree; 
it  is  possible  that  though  it  may  be  a  carbo-hydrate  very 
quickly  consumed  in  the  body,  it  acts  as  an  aid  to  digestion, 
and  produces  more  nourishment  from  a  given  quantity  of 
food,  than  would  be  assimilated  in  its  absence.  The  giving 
out  of  the  men's  allowances  is,  however,  a  troublesome 
matter  and  demands  a  firm  and  masterful  bailiff  or  foreman, 
for  "  much  "  is  inclined  to  want  "  more,"  and  the  line 
should,  of  course,  be  drawn  far  short  of  excess.  It  was 
related  of  an  old  lady  farmer  in  the  neighbourhood,  who 
always  distributed  her  men's  cider  with  her  own  hands,  that 
in  her  anxiety  to  be  on  the  safe  side  after  a  season  when 
the  cider  was  unusually  strong,  she  mixed  a  proportion  of 


CIDER  177 

water  with  the  beverage,  before  the  arrival  of  the  recipients. 
One  of  the  men,  however,  having  discovered  the  dilution, 
arrived  after  the  first  day  with  two  jars.  Asked  the  reason 
for  the  second  jar,  he  answered  that  he  should  prefer  to 
have  his  cider  and  the  water  separate. 

My  bailiff  always  said  that  sixpennyworth  of  cider  would 
do  more  work  than  a  shilling  in  cash.  He  was  undoubtedly 
correct,  and,  moreover,  the  quantity  worth  sixpence  in  the 
farm  cider  store  would  cost  a  shilling  or  more  at  the  public- 
house,  to  supply  an  equivalent  in  alcohol,  and  valuable 
time  would  be  lost  in  fetching  it.  It  is  the  alcohol  that 
commends  it  to  the  agricultural  labourer  more  than  any 
consideration  of  thirst,  and  no  one  can  see  its  effect  without 
the  conviction  that  the  men  find  it  not  only  stimulating, 
but  supporting.  A  friend  of  mine,  however,  found  so  much 
satisfaction  in  a  deep  draught  of  cider  when  he  felt  really 
"  dry,"  that  he  said  he  would  give  "  a  crown  "  any  day  for 
a  "  good  thirst  !" 

Excess  in  drink  was  rare  at  Aldington,  and  it  was  very 
exceptional  for  a  man  to  be  seen  in  what  were  called  his 
"  crooked  stockings."  Fortunately,  we  had  no  public- 
house  in  the  village,  and  if  the  men  had  a  moderate  allow- 
ance during  a  hard  day's  work,  there  was  not  much  tempta- 
tion to  tramp  a  mile  and  back  at  night  to  the  nearest  licensed 
premises  in  order  to  sit  and  swill  in  the  tap-room.  I  had 
one  man  who  lived  near  a  place  of  the  sort,  and  he  occa- 
sionally took  what  my  bailiff  called,  "  Saints'  days," 
and  did  not  appear  for  work.  I  notice  that  this  sort 
of  day  is  now  called  by  the  more  suitable  name  of 
"  alcoholiday." 

Well-fermented  cider  contains  from  5  to  10  gallons  of 
alcohol,  and  perry  about  7  gallons,  to  every  100  gallons  of 
the  liquor,  which  compares  with  claret  13  to  17,  sherry 
15  to  20,  and  port  24  to  26  per  cent,  of  alcohol.  I  found 
the  truth  of  the  proverb  in  vino  Veritas ;  after  a  quite  small 
allowance  of  cider  on  the  farm  the  open-hearted  man  would 
become  lively,  the  reserved  man  taciturn,  the  crabbed  man 
argumentative;  but  the  work  went  with  a  will  and  a  spirit 

12 


178  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

that  were  not  so  noticeable  when  no  "  tots  "  were  going 
round. 

An  old  gentleman  in  the  neighbourhood  used  to  tell  with 
much  enjoyment  the  following  story  of  his  younger  days. 
"  I  found  myself,"  he  said,  "  gradually  increasing  my  allow- 
ance of  whisky  and  water,  as  I  sat  alone  of  an  evening,  and  I 
said  to  myself:  '  Now  look  here,  H.  W.,  you  began  with  one 
glass,  very  soon  you  got  on  to  two,  and  now  you're  taking 
three.  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,  H.  W.,  you  shan't  have 
another  drop  of  whisky  for  a  month  ';"  "  and,"  he  added, 
"  H.  W.  did  it,  too  !" 

Shortly  before  I  came  to  Aldington  the  men  were 
suddenly  seized  with  what  seemed  an  unaccountable 
epidemic;  their  symptoms  were  all  similar,  and  a  doctor 
soon  diagnosed  the  complaint  as  lead-poisoning.  Nobody 
could  suggest  its  origin  until  the  cider  was  suspected,  and, 
on  enquiry,  it  was  elicited  that  the  previous  year  the  stones 
of  the  cider-mill  chase,  which  had  become  loosened  by  long 
use,  were  repaired  with  melted  lead  poured  in  between  the 
joints.  The  malic  acid  of  the  apples  had  dissolved  the  lead, 
and  it  remained  in  solution  in  the  cider.  To  the  disgust 
of  the  men,  the  doctor  advised  removing  the  bungs  from  the 
barrels  and  letting  the  cider  run  off  into  the  drains,  but 
nobody  had  the  heart  to  comply,  for  there  was  the  whole 
year's  stock,  and  it  meant  a  wait  of  twelve  months  before 
it  could  be  replaced.  After  some  months  the  men  got 
impatient,  and  told  the  master  they  were  prepared  to  take 
the  risk.  They  began  with  great  caution,  and  finding  no 
bad  result,  they  gradually  increased  the  dose,  still  Mithout 
harm,  until  the  normal  allowance  was  safely  reached.  It  is 
probable  that  the  barrel  which  caused  the  symptoms  was 
the  first  made  after  the  repairs,  and  contained  an  extra 
quantity  of  the  lead,  and  although  the  remainder  was  more 
or  less  contaminated,  the  poison  was  in  such  small  amount 
as  to  be  harmless. 

There  were  many  old  apple-trees  about  the  hedges  and 
in  odd  corners,  which  went  by  the  name  of  "  the  round- 
abouts," and  the  fruit  was  annually  collected  and  brought 


PERRY  179 

to  the  cider-mill.  Some  of  these  were  immense  trees,  and 
not  very  desirable  round  arable  land,  owing  to  their 
shade,  but  they  were  lovely  when  in  bloom,  for  standing 
separately,  they  seemed  to  develop  richer  colours  than 
when  close  together  in  an  orchard. 

The  story  of  Shakespeare's  carouse,  and  his  night  passed 
under  a  crab-tree  near  Bidford,  about  six  miles  from 
Aldington,  is  well  known.  It  is  stated,  but  not  without 
contradiction,  that  he  excused  himself  by  explaining  that 
he  had  been  drinking  with: 

Piping  Pebworth,  dancing  Marston, 
Haunted  Hillborough,  hungry  Grafton, 
Dudging  Exhall,  papist  Wixford, 
Beggarly  Broom,  and  drunken  Bidford. 

A  carousal  at  all  these  places  would  have  been  a  heavy 
day's  work,  and  I  have  often  thought  that  if  the  lines  can 
really  be  attributed  to  him,  he  might  have  meant  that  he 
had  met  people  from  all  the  villages  at  one  of  the  Whitsun- 
tide merry-makings  annually  held  in  the  neighbourhood, 
and  passed  a  jovial  time  in  their  company. 

Perry  is  made  in  much  the  same  way  as  cider,  and  when 
due  care  has  been  taken  in  its  manufacture,  it  is  a  most 
delicious  and  wholesome  drink.  When  bottled  and  kept  to 
mature  it  pours  out  with  a  beautiful  creaming  head,  and 
is  far  superior  to  ordinary  champagne.  Both  cider  and 
perry  should  be  drunk  out  of  a  china  or  earthenware  mug, 
whence  they  taste  much  richer  than  from  glass;  but  my 
men  always  used  in  the  field  a  small  horn  cup  or  "  tot," 
holding  about  quarter  of  a  pint.  I  have  a  very  interesting 
old  cider  cup,  of  Fulham  or  Lambeth  earthenware  I  think, 
holding  about  a  quart,  with  three  handles,  each  of  which 
is  a  greyhound  with  body  bent  to  form  the  loop  for  the 
hand.  It  was  intended  for  the  use  of  three  persons  sitting 
together  at  a  small  three-cornered  oak  table,  specimens  of 
which  are  still,  though  rarely,  met  with  at  furniture  sales 
in  farm-houses  or  cottages ;  the  cup  was  placed  in  the  middle, 
and  each  person  could  take  a  pull  by  using  his  particular 


180  ^A^  ENGLISH  MANOR 


handle  with  the  adjacent  place  for  his  lips,  without  passing 
the  cup  round  or  using  the  same  drinking  space  as 
another. 

There  are  numerous  kinds  of  perry  pears,  but  certain 
sorts  have  a  great  reputation,  such  as  Moorcroft,  Barland, 
Malvern  Hills,  Longdon,  Red  Horse,  Mother  Huff  Cap,  and 
Chate  Boy  (cheat  boy),  a  particularly  astringent  pear; 
these  are  all  small,  and  require  quickly  grinding  when 
gathered.  In  the  New  Forest  there  is  a  perry  pear  similar 
to  the  Chate  Boy,  called  Choke  Dog,  which  in  its  natural 
state,  is  quite  as  rough  on  the  palate  as  the  former,  but 
it  differs  in  colour  and  is  not  the  same  sort.  I  had  a 
splendid  specimen  of  the  Chate  Boy  pear-tree  at  an  out- 
lying set  of  buildings,  said  to  be  the  father  of  all  the  trees 
of  that  kind  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  it  was  a  landmark  for 
miles,  as  it  stood  on  high  ground.  It  was  fitted  with  a 
ladder  reaching  to  the  middle  of  the  tree,  where  seats  were 
arranged  on  a  platform  for  eight  or  nine  people;  but  it  was 
unfortunately  blown  down  on  the  night  of  the  great  gale 
of  October  14,  1877,  when  twelve  other  trees  on  the  farm 
were  likewise  overthrown. 

Cider  and  perry  drinkers  were  said  to  be  more  or  less 
immune  from  many  human  ailments,  including  rheumatic 
affections,  though  one  would  expect  the  acetic  acid  they 
contain,  unless  very  carefully  made,  would  have  an  opposite 
effect.  Certainly  my  men  suffered  neither  from  gout  nor 
rheumatism,  and  there  was  a  tradition  that  in  1832,  when 
the  cholera  was  rife  in  the  country,  the  plague  was  stayed 
as  soon  as  the  cider  districts  were  approached. 

These  noble  old  pear-trees  are  a  great  feature  of  the  Vale 
of  Evesham,  especially  in  the  more  calcareous  parts  where 
the  lias  limestone  is  not  far  from  the  surface;  they  are 
exquisite  in  spring  in  clouds  of  pure  white  blossoms  long 
before  the  apples  are  in  bloom;  in  the  autumn  the  foliage 
presents  every  tint  of  crimson,  green  and  gold  all  softly 
subdued,  and  in  winter,  when  the  framework  of  the  tree 
can  be  seen,  it  is  noticeable  how  far  the  massive  limbs 
extend,  carrying  their   girth    almost  to  the  summit,   in 


PERRY  181 

a  way  that  not  even  the  oak  can  excel.  The  timber 
is  short  in  the  grain,  and  wears  smooth  in  the  long  wood 
ploughs,  and  is  very  suitable  for  carving  quite  small 
and  elaborate  patterns  for  such  articles  as  picture  frames ; 
but  it  is  somewhat  liable  to  the  attack  of  the  wood- 
worm. 


CHAPTER  XV 

PLUMS— CHERRIES 

"  A  right  down  hearty  one  he  be  as'll  make  some  of  our  maids  look  alive. 
And  the  worst  time  of  year  for  such  work  too,  when  the  May -Dukes  is  in, 
and  the  Hearts  a-eolouring  !" — Crusty  John  in  Alice  Lorraine. 

The  Vale  of  Evesham  has  the  credit  of  being  the  birthplace 
of  two  most  valuable  plums  —  the  Damascene,  and  the 
Pershore,  or  Egg  plum.  These  both  grow  on  their  own 
stocks,  so  require  no  grafting,  and  can  readily  be  propagated 
by  severing  the  suckers  which  spring  up  around  them  from 
the  roots  of  the  tree.  The  Damascene,  as  its  name  implies, 
is  a  species  of  Damson,  but  coarser  than  the  real  Damson  or 
the  Prune  Damson.  They  are  not  so  popular  on  the  London 
market  as  in  the  markets  of  the  north,  especially  in  Man- 
chester, where  they  command  prices  little  inferior  to  the 
better  sorts,  as  they  yield  a  brilliant  red  dye  suitable  for 
dying  printed  cotton  goods.  When  really  ripe  they  are 
excellent  for  cooking,  and  are  not  to  be  despised,  even  raw, 
on  a  thirsty  autumn  day.  In  years  of  scarcity  these  have 
fetched  80s.  and  over  per  "  pot  "  of  72  pounds. 

The  Pershore  is  a  very  different  plum,  green  when  unripe, 
and  attaining  a  golden  colour  later;  they  are  immense 
bearers  and  very  hardy,  frequently  saving  the  situation 
for  the  plum-growers  when  all  other  kinds  are  destroyed  by 
spring  frosts.  They  are  specially  valuable  for  bottling, 
and  it  is  rumoured  that  in  the  hands  of  skilful  manufac- 
turers they  become  "  apricots  "  under  certain  conditions. 
As  "  cookers,"  too,  they  are  perhaps  the  most  useful  of 
plums,  for  they  can  be  used  in  a  very  green  and  hard  state. 
It  is  a  wonderful  sight  to  see  them  being  despatched  by 
train  at  the  Evesham  stations,  loaded  sometimes  loose 
like  coals  in  the  trucks  for  the  big  preserving  firms  in  the 

182 


PLUMS  188 

north.  The  trees  grow  very  irregularly  and  are  difficult  to 
keep  in  shape  by  pruning,  as  they  send  forth  suckers  from 
all  parts  when  an  attempt  is  made  to  keep  them  symmetrical. 
The  only  purpose  for  which  the  fruit  is  of  little  use  is  for 
eating  raw,  they  are  not  unpleasant  when  just  ripe,  but 
that  stage  is  soon  passed  and  they  become  woody  and 
unpalatable. 

I  planted  a  thousand  of  these  trees  in  a  new  orchard,  and 
took  great  pains  with  the  pruning  myself,  for  it  was  curious 
that  in  that  land  of  fruit  at  the  time  no  professional  pruner 
could  be  found.  I  sought  the  advice  of  a  market-gardener 
and  plum-grower,  who,  in  the  early  stage  of  their  growth, 
gave  me  an  object-lesson,  cutting  back  the  young  shoots 
rather  hard  to  induce  them  to  throw  out  more  at  the  point 
of  incision,  so  as  to  produce  eventually  a  fuller  head;  while 
he  reiterated  the  instruction,  "It  is  no  use  being  afraid 
of  'em." 

This  young  orchard  adjoined  the  Great  Western  Railway, 
and  one  day  when  pruning  there  I  saw  a  remarkable 
sight,  and  I  have  never  found  any  one  with  a  similar  ex- 
perience. The  telegraph  wires  were  magnified  into  stout 
ropes  by  a  coating  of  white  rime,  and  I  could  see  a 
distinct  series  of  waves  approximating  to  the  dots  and 
dashes  of  the  Morse  code  running  along  them.  The  move- 
ment would  run  for  a  time  up  towards  London,  cease 
for  a  moment,  and  then  run  downwards  towards  Evesham, 
and  so  on  almost  continuously.  I  thought  it  might  be 
caused  by  the  passage  of  electricity,  but  I  cannot  get  a 
satisfactory  explanation.  No  trains  were  passing,  there 
was  no  wind,  the  rime  was  not  thawing  or  falling  off,  and 
apparently  there  was  nothing  to  agitate  either  poles  or  wires. 

This  orchard  was  not  a  lucky  one;  it  was  too  low,  having 
only  one  flat  meadow  between  it  and  the  brook,  and  there- 
fore very  liable  to  spring  frosts.  I  have  seen  the  trees  well 
past  the  blossoming  stage,  with  young  plums  as  large  as 
peas,  which  after  two  nights'  sharp  frost  turned  black 
and  fell  off  to  such  an  extent  that  there  was  scarcely  a 
plum  left;  but  I  had  a  few  very  good  crops  which  gave 


l84  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


employment  to  a  number  of  additional  hands  besides  my 
regular  people. 

A  season  came  when  the  plum-trees  in  my  new  orchard 
were  badly  attacked  by  the  caterpillars  of  the  winter- 
moth,  but  the  cuckoos  soon  found  them  out,  and  I  could 
see  half  a  dozen  at  once  enjoying  a  bountiful  feast. 
When  better  plums  are  abundant  the  Pershore  falls  to  very 
low  prices;  I  have  sold  quantities  at  Is.  or  Is.  3d.  per  pot 
of  72  pounds,  at  which  of  course  there  was  a  loss;  but  it  is 
needless  to  say  that  at  such  times  the  consumer  never  gets 
the  benefit,  2d.  a  pound  being  about  the  lowest  figure  at 
which  they  are  ever  seen  on  offer  in  the  shops. 

The  Victoria  is  a  very  superior  plum  to  the  Pershore, 
and  a  local  plum  called  Jimmy  Moore  is  also  a  favourite. 
I  believe  this  plum  is  very  similar  to,  if  not  identical  with, 
one  sold  as  Emperor;  both  it  and  the  Victoria  nearly 
always  made  good  prices  and  bore  well!  The  Victoria, 
especially,  was  so  prolific  that  in  some  seasons,  if  not 
carefully  propped,  every  branch  would  be  broken  off  by 
the  weight  of  fruit,  and  the  tree  left  a  wreck.  Not  dis- 
couraged, however,  it  would  shoot  out  again  and  in  a  few 
years  bear  as  well  as  ever. 

My  best  plum  was  the  greengage,  rather  a  shy  bearer 
but  always  in  demand.  Living  in  a  land  of  Goshen,  like 
the  Vale  of  Evesham,  one  gets  quite  hypercritical  (or 
"  picksome,"  as  the  local  expression  is),  and  scarcely  cares 
to  taste  a  fruit  from  a  tree  in  passing;  but  I  used  to  visit 
my  greengages  at  times  when  the  pickers  had  done  with 
them,  for  they  have  to  be  gathered  somewhat  unripe  to 
ensure  travelling  undamaged.  I  often  found,  on  the 
south  side  of  the  tree,  a  few  that  had  been  overlooked  which 
were  fully  ripe,  beautifully  mottled,  full  of  sunshine,  and 
perfect  in  melting  texture  and  ambrosial  flavour. 

For  restocking  old  worn-out  apple  orchards,  in  Worces- 
tershire at  any  rate,  there  is  nothing  to  equal  plum-trees; 
they  flourished  amazingly  "iat  Aldington,  and  soon  made 
up  for  the  lost  apples;  they  appeared  to  follow  the  principle 
that  dictates  the  rotation  of  ordinary  crops,  just  as  the 


CHERRIES  185 


leguminous  plants  alternate  satisfactorily  with  the 
graminaceous,  or,  as  I  have  read  that  in  Norway,  where  a 
fir  forest  has  been  cut,  birch  will  spring  up  automatically 
and  take  its  place. 

My  predecessor  always  sold  his  plums  on  the  trees  for 
the  buyer  to  harvest,  and  I  heard  that  when  the  former 
turned  a  flock  of  Dorset  ewes  into  one  of  these  orchards, 
the  buyer  complained — the  lower  branches  being  heavily 
laden,  and  within  a  few  feet  of  the  ground — that  he  had 
watched,  "Them  old  yows  holding  down  bunches  of 
plums  with  their  harns  for  t'others  to  eat."  This  I 
imagine  was  in  the  nature  of  hyperbole,  and  not  intended 
to  be  taken  literally. 

I  had  about  forty  cherry  trees  in  one  of  my  orchards, 
and  among  them  a  very  early  kind  of  black  cherry,  as 
well  as  Black  Bigarreaus,  White  Heart  and  Elton  Heart. 
The  early  ones  made  particularly  good  prices,  but  when 
the  French  cherries  began  to  be  imported,  being  on  the 
market  a  week   or  two  before  ours  they  "  took  the  keen 
edge  off  the  demand,"   though  wretched-looking  things 
in  comparison.     The  cherries  from  my  forty  trees  made 
£80  one  year  when  the  crop  was  good,  but  they  are  expensive 
to  pick  as  there  is  much  shifting  of  heavy  ladders,  and  the 
work  was  done  by  men.     In  Kent,  I  believe,  women  are 
employed  at  cherry-picking,  ascending  forty-round  ladders 
in  a  gale  of  wind  without  a  sign  of  nervousness,  but  with  a 
man  in  attendance  to  pack  the  fruit  and  shift  the  ladders 
when  required.     I  found  Liverpool  the  best  market  for 
cherries,  where  they  were  bought  by  the  large  steamship 
companies  for  the  Transatlantic  liners,  and  where  they 
were  in  demand  for  the  seaside  and  holiday  places  in  North 
Wales  and  Lancashire.     Like  the  pear-trees,  the  cherry- 
trees  are  very  beautiful  in  spring,  and  again  in  autumn, 
and  as  mine  could  be  seen  from  the  house  and  garden,  they 
added  a  great  charm  to  the  place. 

I  must  put  in  a  word  here  for  the  bullfinch,  which  is 
unreasonably  persecuted  for  its  supposed  destruction 
of  the  cherry  crop  when  in  bloom;  it  undoubtedly  picks 


186  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


many  blossoms  to  pieces,  but  probably  no  ultimate  loss  of 
weight  follows*  very  few  comparatively  of  the  blooms 
ever  become  fruits  in  any  case,  and  even  if  some  are  thus 
nipped  in  the  bud,  it  is  probable  that  the  remainder  mature 
into  larger  and  finer  cherries  in  consequence.  The  advan- 
tage of  thinning  is  recognized  in  the  case  of  all  our  fruits, 
and  is  indeed,  the  reason  for  pruning.  The  vine-grower 
knows  well  the  truth  of  the  saying  that,  "  You  should  get 
your  enemy  to  thin  your  grapes,"  and  I  would  sacrifice 
many  cherries  for  a  few  of  these  beautiful  birds  in  my 
garden,  for  man  does  not  live  by  bread  alone. 

One  of  the  old  couplets,  of  which  our  forefathers  were  so 
fond,  runs : 

"  A  cherry  year  is  a  merry  year, 
And  a  plum  year  is  a  dumb  year." 

I  have  seen  the  explanation  suggested  that  cherries 
being  particularly  wholesome  contributed  to  the  happiness 
of  mankind,  but  that  the  less  salubrious  plum  tended  to 
depression  of  health  and  spirits.  There  is,  however,  a 
small  black  cherry  still  grown  in  this  and  other  parts  of 
Hampshire  and  Surrey  called  the  "  Merry,"  from  the 
French  merise>  and  it  was  natural  that  when  cherries  were 
abundant  the  merry  would  also  be  plentiful.  The  word 
"  dumb  "  is  an  archaic  synonyfn  for  "  damson,"  and  the 
same  rule  would  apply  between  it  and  the  plum,  as  with  the 
cherry  and  the  merry.  My  o^vn  small  place  here,  in  the 
New  Forest,  has  been  known  for  centuries  as  "  the  Merry 
Gardens,"  and  no  doubt  they  were  once  grown  here,  as 
at  other  places  in  the  south  of  England,  called  Merry 
Hills,  Merry  Fields,  and  Merry  Orchards.  Even  now  as  I 
write,  on  May  Day,  the  buds  on  the  wild  cherries  in  my 
hedges  are  showing  the  white  bloom  just  ready  to  appear, 
and  in  a  few  days,  these  trees  will  be  spangled  with  their 
little  bright  stars.  I  imagine  that  they  are  no  very 
distant  relation  of  the  old  merry-trees  that  once  flourished 
here. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

TREES :  ELM— OAK— BEECH— WILLOW— SCOTS-FIR 

"  O  flourish,  hidden  deep  in  fern, 
Old  oak,  I  love  thee  well; 
A  thousand  thanks  for  what  I  learn 
And  what  remains  to  tell." 

The  Talking  Oak. 

Keats  tells  us  that 

"  The  trees 
That  whisper  round  a  temple  become  soon 
Dear  as  the  temple's  self," 

and  had  he  included  the  trees  around  a  dwelling-house, 
the  epigram  would  have  been  equally  applicable.  Some- 
times, of  course,  it  becomes  absolutely  necessary  to  cut 
down  an  ancient  tree  that  from  its  proximity  to  one's  home 
has  become  a  part  of  the  home  itself,  but  it  is  a  matter  for 
the  gravest  consideration,  for  one  cannot  foresee  the  result, 
and  to  a  person  who  has  lived  long  with  a  noble  tree  as  a 
near  neighbour,  the  place  never  again  seems  the  same. 

The  Elm  is  said  to  be  the  Worcestershire  weed,  as  the 
oak  is  in  Herefordshire;  the  former  attains  a  great  size,  but 
it  is  not  very  deeply  rooted,  and  a  heavy  gale  will  sometimes 
cause  many  unwelcome  gaps  in  a  stately  avenue.  Big 
branches,  too,  have  a  way  of  falling  without  the  least 
notice,  and  on  the  whole  it  is  safer  not  to  have  elms  near 
houses  or  cottages.  One  of  the  finest  avenues  of  elms  I 
know,  is  to  be  seen  at  the  Palace  of  the  Bishop  of  Winchester 
at  Farnham  in  Surrey,  but  the  land  is  quite  exceptionally 
good,  and  in  the  palmy  days  of  hop-growing,  the  adjoining 
fields  commanded  a  rent  of  £20  an  acre  for  what  is  known 
as  the  "  Heart  land  of  Farnham,"  where  hops  of  the  most 
superlative  quality  were  grown.  When  the  dappled  deer 
are  grouped  under  this    noble    avenue,  in  the   light  and 

187 


188  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


shade  beneath  the  elms,  they  form  an  old  English  picture 
of  country  life  not  to  be  surpassed. 

The  elm  is  a  sure  sign  of  rich  land,  it  is  never  seen  on 
thin  poor  soils.  An  intending  purchaser,  or  tenant,  of  a 
farm  should  always  regard  its  presence  as  a  certain  indica- 
tion of  a  likely  venture.  It  is  a  terrible  robber,  and  there- 
fore a  nuisance  round  arable  land,  causing  a  spreading  shade, 
under  which  the  corn  will  be  found  thin,  "  scrawley,"  and 
"  broken-kneed,"  with  poor,  shrivelled  ears;  and  the 
alternating  green  crops  will  also  suffer  in  their  way.  In  an 
orchard  it  is  still  worse;  I  had  several  at  one  time  surrounded 
by  Blenheim  apples,  which  were  always  small,  scanty,  and 
colourless.  Eventually,  I  cut  the  elms  down,  the  biggest, 
carrying  perhaps  100  cubic  feet  of  timber  at  9d.  a  foot  at  the 
time,  was  only  worth  75s.,  though  it  must  have  destroyed 
scores  of  pounds  worth  of  fruit  during  its  many  years  of 
growth.  The  elm  seems  particularly  liable  to  be  struck 
by  lightning,  possibly  owing  to  its  height,  and  several 
suffered  in  this  way  during  my  time  at  Aldington. 

From  the  scarcity  of  oak  in  the  Vale  of  Evesham  elm 
was  often  used  for  making  the  coffers  or  chests  we  generally 
see  made  from  the  former  wood.  I  have  one  of  these, 
nicely  carved  with  the  scrolls  and  bold  devices  of  the 
Jacobean  period,  and  it  is  so  dark  in  colour  as  to  pass  at 
first  sight  for  old  oak.  The  timber  is  not  much  used  in 
building,  except  for  rough  farm  sheds;  as  boards  it  is 
liable  to  twist  and  become  what  is  called  "  cross- winding." 
The  land  in  the  New  Forest  is  mostly  too  poor  for  the  elm, 
and  this  should  warn  the  theorists,  who  during  the  war 
have  advocated  reclaiming  the  open  heaths  and  moors  for 
agricultural  purposes,  against  such  an  ignorant  proposition. 
I  suppose  it  would  cost  at  least  £100  an  acre  to  clear,  drain, 
fence,  level,  make  roads,  and  erect  the  necessary  farm 
buildings,  houses  and  cottages,  with  the  result  that  it  would 
command  less  than  £l  per  acre  as  annual  rent;  and  I  should 
be  sorry  to  be  compelled  to  farm  it  at  that. 

Oaks  are  somewhat  scarce  in  Worcestershire,  and  are 
rarely    found    in    the    Vale    of    Evesham.      I    had    one 


OAK  189 

remarkably  fine  specimen  in  a  meadow  on  Claybrook, 
the  farm  I  owned,  adjoining  the  Aldington  land.  It 
covered  an  area  measuring  22  yards  by  22  yards =484  square 
yards,  the  tenth  part  of  an  acre.  The  trunk  measured 
12  feet  in  circumference,  about  7  feet  from  the  ground. 
The  rule  for  estimating  the  age  of  growing  oak-trees  is  to 
calculate  15  years  to  each  inch  of  radius=540  years  to  a 
yard,  therefore  a  tree  6  feet  in  diameter,  and  about  20  feet 
round,  including  bark  and  knots,  would  be  just  that  age. 
According  to  this  rule  my  tree  would  be  not  less  than 
330  years  old,  which  of  course  is  young  for  an  oak. 

The  life  of  this  oak  was  saved  in  a  peculiar  way  by  "  a 
pint  of  drink,"  and  the  story  was  told  me  by  the  agent  of  an 
old  lady,  the  previous  owner.  It  had  been  decided  to  fell 
the  tree,  and  two  professional  sawyers,  who  were  also 
"  tree-fallers  "  (fellers),  arrived  one  morning  for  the  purpose 
with  their  axes  and  cross-cut  saw.  They  surveyed  the 
prospect  and  agreeing  that  it  presented  a  tough  job,  an 
adjournment  was  arranged  to  the  neighbouring  "  Royal 
Oak"  for  a  pint  of  drink  before  commencing  operations. 
Coming  back,  half  an  hour  later,  they  had  just  stripped  and 
rolled  up  their  shirt  sleeves,  when  the  agent  appeared  on  the 
road  not  far  off.  "  Hullo,"  he  shouted,  "  have  you  made  a 
start  ?"  "  Just  about  to  begin,"  replied  the  head  man. 
"  Well  then,  don't,"  said  the  agent,  "the  old  lady  died  last 
night,  and  I  must  wait  till  the  new  owners  have  considered 
the  matter."  So  the  tree  was  saved,  and  curiously  enough 
by  its  namesake  the  "  Royal  Oak."  The  new  owner  spared 
it,  and  later  when  it  became  my  property  I  did  likewise,  for 
I  should  have  considered  it  sacrilege  to  destroy  the  finest 
oak  in  the  neighbourhood.  Some  years  after  I  had  sold 
the  farm  I  heard  that  the  tree  was  blown  down  in  a  gale,  its 
enormous  head  and  widespread  branches  must  have  offered 
immense  resistance  to  the  wind,  and  the  fall  of  it  must  have 
been  great. 

The  most  celebrated,  if  not  the  biggest  oak  in  the  New 
Forest  is  the  Knightwood  oak,  not  far  from  Lyndhurst;  it 
is  17  feet  in  circumference,  which  would  make  it  not  less 


190  ^iV  ENGLISH  MANOR 


than  450  years  old  by  the  above  rule.  It  is  strange  to  think 
that  it  may  have  been  an  acorn  in  the  year  1469,  in  the 
reign  of  Henry  VI.,  and  that  200  years  later  it  could  easily 
have  peeped  over  the  heads  of  its  neighbours  in  1669,  to  see 
Charles  II.,  who  probably  went  riding  along  the  main 
Christchurch  road  from  Lyndhurst  with  a  team  of  courtiers 
and  court  beauties,  in  all  the  pomp  of  royalty.  We  know 
that  in  that  year  with  reference  to  the  waste  of  timber  in 
the  Forest  during  his  father's  reign  he  was  especially 
interested  in  the  planting  of  young  oaks,  and  enclosed  a 
nursery  of  300  acres  for  their  growth.  It  is  also  recorded 
that  he  did  not  forget  the  maids  of  honour  of  his  court, 
upon  whom  he  bestowed  the  young  woods  of  Brockenhurst. 

"  Oak  before  ash — only  a  splash, 
Ash  before  oak — a  regular  soak," 

is  a  very  ancient  proverb  referring  to  the  relative  times  of 
the  leaves  of  these  trees  appearing  in  the  spring,  and  is 
supposed  to  be  prophetic  of  the  weather  during  the  ensuing 
summer.  I  have,  however,  noticed  for  many  years  that 
the  oak  is  invariably  first,  so  that  like  some  other  prognos- 
tications, it  seems  to  be  unreliable. 

The  attitudes  of  oak  trees  are  a  very  interesting  study. 
There  is  the  oak  which,  bending  forwards  and  stretching 
out  a  kindly  hand,  appears  to  offer  a  hearty  welcome; 
the  oak  that  starts  backward  in  astonishment  at  any 
familiarity  advanced  by  a  passing  stranger.  The  oak 
that  assumes  an  attitude  of  pride  and  self-importance; 
the  oak  that  approaches  a  superior  neighbour  with  an 
air  of  humility  and  abasement,  listening  subserviently  to 
his  conamands.  The  shrinking  oak  in  dread  of  an  enemy, 
and  the  oak  prepared  to  offer  a  stout  resistance.  The 
hopeful  oak  in  the  prime  of  life,  and  the  oak  that  totters 
in  desolate  and  crabbed  old  age.  The  oak  that  enjoys 
in  middle  age  the  good  things  of  life,  with  well-fed  and 
rounded  symmetry;  and  the  oak  that  suggests  decrepitude, 
with  rough  exterior,  and  a  life-experience  of  hardship; 
the  sturdy  oak,  the  ambitious  oak,  the  self-contained  oak, 


OAK  191 

and  so  on,  through  every  phase  of  character.  No  other 
tree  is  so  human  or  so  expressive,  and  no  other  tree 
bespeaks  such  fortitude  and  endurance.  To  say  that 
a  well-grown  oak  typifies  the  reserve  and  strength  of  the 
true-born  Briton,  is  perhaps  to  sum  up  its  individuality 
in  a  word. 

There  is  one  old  fellow  who  throws  back  his  head  and 
roars  with  laughter  when  I  go  by;  what  can  be  the  joke  ? 
I  must  stop  some  day  and  look  to  see  if  the  sides  of 
his  rather  tight  jacket  of  Lincoln  green  moss  are  really 
splitting,  and  perhaps,  if  I  can  catch  the  pitch  of  his 
voice,  I  shall  hear  him  whisper: 

"  A  fool,  a  fool  !     I  met  a  fool  i'  the  forest." 

I  like  to  think  that  these  old  personalities  are  transmigra- 
tions, and  that  each  is  now  at  leisure  to  correct  some 
special  mistake  in  a  previous  existence.  Perhaps,  out 
there  in  the  moonlight,  they  tell  their  stories  to  each  other, 
and  to  the  owls  I  hear  at  midnight  performing  an  appro- 
priately weird  overture. 

These  talking  oaks  can  only  be  found  where  they  have 
grown  from  acorns  naturally,  and  where  they  have 
survived  the  struggle  of  life  against  their  enemies,  in- 
cluding the  interference  of  man,  the  attacks  of  grazing 
animals,  the  blasts  of  winter  and  the  heavy  burden  of  its 
snows.  The  natural  woods,  as  distinct  from  the  planta- 
tions of  the  New  Forest,  offer  many  examples  of  these 
varying  trees  and  the  lessons  they  convey.  Such  a  piece 
of  old  natural  forest  almost  surrounds  my  present  home, 
and  every  time  I  pass  through  it  I  bless  the  memory  of 
William  the  Conqueror.  Randolph  Caldecott,  that  prince 
of  illustrators  of  rural  life,  evidently  noticed  the  charac- 
teristic attitudes  of  trees;  look  at  the  sympathetic  de- 
jection displayed  by  the  two  old  pollard  willows  in  his 
sketch  of  the  maiden  all  forlorn,  in  The  House  that  Jack 
Built.  The  maiden  has  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes, 
and  in  a  few  masterly  strokes  one  of  the  trees  is  depicted 
with  a  falling  tear,  and  the  other  bent  double  is  hobbling 


192  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


along  with  a  crutch  supporting  its  withered  and  tottering 
frame. 

Far  otherwise  is  it  with  the  plantations  where  the  oaks 
are  artificially  cultivated  for  timber.  These  are  planted 
close  together  on  purpose  to  draw  each  other  upwards  in 
the  struggle  for  air  and  sunlight,  which  prevents  their 
branching  so  near  the  ground  as  the  natural  trees,  the 
object  being  to  produce  an  extended  length  of  straight 
trunk  that  will  eventually  afford  a  long  and  regular  cut 
of  timber,  free  from  the  knots  caused  by  the  branches. 
All  round  the  plantations  Scots -firs  are  planted  as 
"  nurses,"  to  keep  off  the  rough  winds  and  prevent  breakage ; 
these  also  help  to  lengthen  the  trunks  by  inducing  upward 
development.  As  the  trees  get  nearer  together  they  are 
repeatedly  thinned  out,  and,  eventually,  only  those 
left  which  are  intended  to  come  to  maturity.  Under  this 
artificial,  though  necessary  system,  the  trees  lose  all 
individuality,  and  they  never  regain  it  because  they  are 
all  more  or  less  controlled  when  growing,  and  so  become 
uninteresting  copies  of  each  other. 

The  motto  of  the  natural  oak  is  festina  lente,  mindful 
of  the  proverb,  "early  maturity  means  early  decay.'* 
It  is  well  known  that  oak,  slowly  and  naturally  grown  on 
poor  soil,  is  far  more  durable  than  that  which  is  run  up 
artificially  or  produced  on  rich  land.  The  branches  of 
oaks  rarely  cross  or  damage  each  other  by  friction,  like 
those  of  the  beech,  they  are  obstinate  and  will  sooner 
break  in  a  gale,  than  give  way.  Where  an  oak  and  a 
beech  grow  side  by  side,  close  together,  the  oak  suffers 
more  than  the  beech,  from  the  dense  shade  of  the  latter; 
and  if  they  are  so  near  as  to  touch  and  rub  together  in 
the  wind,  the  oak  will  throw  out  a  plaster  or  protection 
of  bark,  to  act  as  a  styptic  to  the  wound  in  the  first  place, 
and  eventually  as  a  solid  barrier  against  further  ag- 
gression. 

Paintings  of  landscape  in  which  trees  occur  are  rarely 
satisfactory;  if  you  look  at  children  playing  beneath 
timber  trees,  or  passers-by,  the  first  thing  that  strikes  you 


OAK  193 

is  the  majesty  and  the  height  of  the  tree,  as  compared  with 
the  human  figure.  In  paintings  this  is  not  as  a  rule 
expressed;  the  trees  are  too  insignificant,  and  the  figures 
too  important,  so  that  the  range  and  wealth  of  tree-life 
is  lost.  Gainsborough's  Market  Cart  is  a  notable  excep- 
tion, but  the  cart  is  a  clumsy  affair,  and  the  shafts  are 
much  too  low  both  on  it  and  the  horse.  Constable's 
Valley  Farm,  The  Haywain,  The  Cornfield,  and  Dedham 
Mill  are  all  striking  examples  of  his  sense  of  tree  pro- 
portion, lending  no  little  to  the  nobility  of  his  pictures, 
and  speaking  eloquently  of  the  reverence  man  should 
feel  in  the  presence  of  Nature,  untainted  by  his  own 
fancied  importance. 

What  is  known  as  "  heart  of  oak  "  in  Worcestershire 
is  called  "  spine-oak  "  in  the  New  Forest,  and  the  latter 
is  perhaps  the  better  name  of  the  two  as  expressive  of 
greater  durability.  The  outer  part  of  the  trimk  is 
called  "  the  sap,"  and  whilst  the  heart  or  spine  is  almost 
indestructible,  the  sap-wood  quickly  decays,  and  is  re- 
jected in  using  the  timber  for  any  important  purpose. 
Pieces  of  the  sap  adhering  to  the  heart -wood  of  which 
the  old  oak  coffers  were  made,  may  often  be  found 
riddled  with  worm  holes  and  almost  gone  to  dust,  while 
the  remainder  of  the  chest  is  as  sound  as  the  day  it  was 
made  two  or  three  hundred  years  ago. 

It  is  interesting,  too,  to  notice  marks  of  charring  on 
the  edge  of  the  lids  of  these  coffers;  it  is  said  that  they 
were  caused  by  placing  the  rushlight  in  that  position, 
the  flame  just  overhanging  the  edge,  to  give  time  to  jump 
into  bed  by  its  light,  leaving  it  to  be  automatically  ex- 
tinguished on  reaching  the  wood;  and  that  the  charring 
occurred  when  sometimes  the  flame  continued  to  burn  a 
little  longer  than  expected. 

Oak  is  usually  felled  in  the  spring  when  the  sap  is 
rising,  to  allow  of  the  easier  removal  of  the  bark  for  tanning. 
It  is  a  pretty  sight  to  see,  amidst  the  greenery  of  the 
standing  trees,  the  stripped  and  gleaming  trunks  and  larger 
limbs  stretched  upon  the  ground,  with  the  neatly  piled 

13 


194  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

stacks  of  bark  arranged  for  the  air  to  draw  through  and 
dry  them  before  removal.  This  is  called  "  rining " 
in  the  New  Forest,  and  good  wages  are  earned  at  it  by 
the  men  employed. 

It  is  perhaps  the  only  timber,  with  the  exception  of 
sweet  chestnut,  that  is  worthy  to  be  used  for  the  roofs 
of  ecclesiastical  buildings.  At  Badsey,  when  we  removed 
the  roof  of  the  church  prior  to  restoration,  we  found  the 
oak  timbers  on  the  north  side  as  sound  as  when  placed 
there  many  years  further  back  than  living  memory  could 
recall,  and  of  which  no  record  or  tradition  existed.  These 
timbers  were  all  used  again  in  the  new  roof,  but  those 
from  the  south  side  had  to  be  discarded,  having  been 
much  more  exposed  to  driving  rain  and  daily  changes  of 
temperature. 

I  had  a  number  of  oak  field-gates  made,  but  as  the 
timber  was  barely  seasoned,  we  were  afraid  shrinkage 
might  take  place  in  the  mortises  and  tenons,  and  it  was  an 
agreeable  surprise  to  find  in  a  year  or  two  that  nothing 
of  the  kind  had  happened.  The  mortise  hole  had  ap- 
parently got  smaller,  and  still  fitted  the  shrunken  tenon 
to  perfection.  Oak  gates  will  last,  if  kept  occasionally 
painted,  sixty  or  seventy  years  in  farm  use,  and  there  were 
gates  on  my  land  fully  that  age  and  still  quite  serviceable. 

The  acorns  from  oaks  in  pastures  are  a  trouble,  as  cattle 
are  very  fond  of  them  and  sometimes  gorge  themselves 
to  such  an  extent  as  to  prove  fatal,  if  allowed  unrestricted 
access  to  them  when  really  hungry;  but  in  the  New  Forest 
they  are  welcomed  by  the  commoners  (occupiers  of  private 
lands),  some  of  whom  possess  the  right  of  "  pannage  " 
(turning  out  pigs  on  the  Crown  property). 

In  old  days  the  oak  timbers  of  which  our  battleships 
were  constructed  were  supplied  from  the  New  Forest; 
and  the  saw-pit  in  which  the  timbers  of  the  Victory  were 
sawn  by  hand  is  still  to  be  seen  in  Burley  New  Plantation. 
But  Government  methods  appear  to  have  been  generally 
conducted  in  later  times  somewhat  on  the  independent 
lines  which  distinguished  them  in  the  Great  War.     Some 


OAK  195 

years  ago  it  was  said  that  a  department  requiring  oak 
timber  advertised  for  tenders  in  a  newspaper,  in  which  also 
appeared  an  advertisement  of  another  department  offering 
oak  for  sale.  A  dealer  who  obtained  an  option  to  pur- 
chase from  the  latter,  submitted  a  tender  to  the  former, 
succeeded  in  obtaining  the  business,  and  cleared  a  large 
profit. 

The  oak  has  figured  repeatedly  in  English  history  and 
occupies  a  unique  place  in  our  national  tradition,  com- 
mencing with  its  Druidical  worship  as  a  sacred  tree.  It 
was  from  an  oak  that  the  arrow  of  Walter  Tyrrel  which 
struck  down  William  Rufus  is  said  to  have  glanced,  and 
Magna  Charta  was  signed  beneath  an  oak  by  the  unwilling 
hand  of  King  John.  It  is  associated  in  all  ages  with 
preachings,  political  meetings,  and  with  parish  and  county 
boundaries.  These  boundary  oaks  were  called  Gospel- 
trees,  it  is  said,  because  the  gospel  for  the  day  was  read 
beneath  them  by  the  parochial  priest  during  the  annual 
perambulation  of  the  parish  boundaries  by  the  leading 
inhabitants  in  Rogation  week.  Herrick  alludes  to  the 
practice  in  the  lines  addressed  to   Anthea  in  Hesperides: 

"  Dearest,  bury  me 
Under  that  Holy-oke  or  Gospel-tree, 
Where  (though  thou  see'st  not)  thou  may'st  think  upon 
Me,  when  thou  yeerly  go'st  Procession." 

But  perhaps  the  oak  that  appeals  most  to  the  lively 
imagination  venerating  old  tales  of  merry  England,  and  with 
whose  story  generous  hearts  are  most  in  sympathy,  is  that 

"  Wherein  the  younger  Charles  abode 
Till  all  the  paths  were  dim, 
And  far  below  the  Roundhead  rode, 
And  hummed  a  surly  hjmtm." 

The  beech  is  not  a  common  tree  in  the  Vale  of  Evesham, 
preferring  the  dryer  soils  of  the  Cotswold  Hills.  It  is  said 
to  have  been  introduced  by  the  Romans,  and  is  familiar  as 
the  tree  mentioned  by  Virgil  in  the  opening  line  of  his 
first  Pastoral : 

"  Tityre  tu  patuke  recubans  sub  tegmine  fagi  ; " 


196  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

—^ 

the  metre,  and  the  words  of  which,  apart  from  their 
signification,  suggest  so  accurately  the  pattering  of  the 
leaves  of  the  tree  in  a  gentle  breeze.  This  device  like 
alliteration  is  a  method  of  intensifying  the  expression  of  a 
passage,  and  is  frequently  adopted  by  the  poets. 
In  another  famous  onomatopceic  line — 

"  Quadrupedante  putrem  sonitu  quatit  iwgula  cnmpvm  " 

— Virgil  imitates  the  sound  of  a  galloping  horse,  and  the 
shaking  of  the  ground  beneath  its  hoofs. 

Tennyson  renders  very  naturally  the  action  of  the 
northern  farmer's  nag  and  the  sound  of  its  movement,  by — 

"  Proputty,  proputty  sticks  an'  proputty,  proputty  graws." 

And  an  excellent  example  of  the  effect  of  well-chosen  words, 
to  express  the  sound  produced  by  the  subject  referred  to, 
occurs  in  the  Morte  cC Arthur: 

"  The  many-knotted  waterflags, 
That  whistled  stiff  and  dry  about  the  marge." 

Blackmore's  passage  in  Loma  Doone,  describing  the 
superlative  ease  and  speed  of  Tom  Faggus's  mare,  when 
John  Ridd  as  a  boy  was  allowed  to  ride  her — after  a  rough 
experience  at  the  beginning  of  the  venture — is,  though 
printed  as  prose,  perhaps  better  poetry  than  most  similar 
efforts.  To  emphasize  its  full  force  it  may  be  allowable  to 
divide  the  phrases  as  follows: 

"  I  never  had  dreamed  of  such  delicate  motion, 

Fluent,  and  graceful,  and  ambient, 
Soft  as  the  breeze  flitting  over  the  flowers. 

But  swift  as  the  summer  lightning. 
I  sat  up  again,  but  my  strength  was  all  spent, 

And  no  time  left  to  recover  it, 
And  though  she  rose  at  our  gate  like  a  bird, 

I  tumbled  off  into  the  mixen." 

The  last  line  is  a  delightful  bathos,  adding  immensely  to 
the  completeness  of  the  catastrophe. 

In  spring  the  beech  is  the  most  beautiful  of  forest  trees, 
putting  forth  individual  horizontal  sprays  of  tender  green 


BEECH  19T 

from  the  lower  branches  about  the  end  of  April  as  heralds 
of  the  later  full  glory  of  the  tree.  These  increase  day  by 
day  upwards  in  verdant  clouds,  until  the  whole  unites  into 
a  complete  bower  of  dense  greenery.  The  beech  is  known 
as  the  "  groaning  tree,"  because  the  branches  often  cross 
each  other,  and  where  the  tree  is  exposed  to  the  wind 
sometimes  groan  as  they  rub  together.  The  rubbing  often 
causes  a  wound  where  one  of  the  branches  will  eventually 
break  off,  or  occasionally  automatic  grafting  takes  place, 
and  they  unite.  In  the  Verderer's  Hall  at  Lyndhurst 
specimens  are  to  be  seen  which  have  crossed  and  joined  a 
second  time,  so  that  a  complete  hollow  oval,  or  irregular 
circle  of  the  wood  could  be  cut  out  of  the  branch. 

Estates  where  extensive  beech  woods  existed  have  been 
bought  by  speculative  timber  dealers,  who  shortly  installed 
a  gang  of  wood  cutters  and  a  steam  saw,  on  which  the  timber 
was  sawn  into  suitable  pieces,  to  be  afterwards  turned 
on  a  lathe  into  chair  legs  and  other  domestic  furniture, 
and  very  often  finally  dyed  to  represent  mahogany.  There 
are  beeches  in  the  New  Forest  which  vie  with  the  oak  for 
premier  place,  measuring  over  20  feet  in  circumference, 
and  the  mast  together  with  the  acorns  affords  abundant 
harvest,  or  "  ovest,"  as  it  is  called,  for  the  commoners'  pigs. 

There  was  a  curious  saying  in  use  by  persons  on  the  road 
to  Pershore,  when  asked  their  destination.  In  a  good  plum 
year  the  reply  was,  "  Pershore,  where  d'ye  think  ?"  And 
in  a  year  of  scarcity,  "  Pershore,  God  help  us  !"  The  same 
expressions  were  formerly  current  regarding  Burley  in  the 
New  Forest  referring  to  the  abundance  or  scarcity  of  beech- 
mast  and  acorns,  called  collectively  "  akermast." 

When  the  nation  had  presented  the  Duke  of  Wellington, 
after  the  Battle  of  Waterloo,  with  Strathfieldsaye,  an  estate 
between  Basingstoke  and  Reading,  the  Duke  wishing  to 
commemorate  the  event  planted  a  number  of  beech  trees 
as  a  lasting  memorial,  which  were  known  as  "  the  Waterloo 
beeches."  Some  years  later,  the  eminent  arboricultural 
author,  John  Loudon,  writing  on  the  subject  of  the  relative 
ages  and  sizes  of  trees,  wrote  to  the  Duke  for  permission 


198  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


to  view  his  Waterloo  beeches.  The  Duke  had  never  heard 
of  Loudon,  and  his  writing  being  somewhat  illegible  he 
deciphered  the  signature  "  J.  Loudon  "  as  "  J.  London  " 
(the  Bishop  of  London),  and  the  word  "  beeches  '*  as 
"  breeches."  "  For  what  on  earth  can  the  Bishop  want 
to  see  the  breeches  I  wore  at  Waterloo?"  said  the  Duke; 
but  taking  a  charitable  view  of  the  matter  he  decided  that 
the  poor  old  Bishop  must  be  getting  irresponsible  and 
replied  that  he  was  giving  his  valet  instructions  to  show 
the  Bishop  the  garments  in  question,  whenever  it  suited 
him  to  inspect  them.  The  Bishop  was  equally  amazed, 
but  took  exactly  the  same  view  about  the  Duke  as  the  latter 
had  decided  upon  concerning  the  Bishop.  No  doubt  the 
mystery  was  eventually  cleared  up,  and  Bishop  and  Duke 
must  have  both  enjoyed  the  joke. 

The  shade  of  the  beech  is  so  dense  that  grass  will  not 
grow  beneath  it;  it  gradually  kills  even  holly,  which  is 
comparatively  flourishing  under  the  oak.  The  beech  woods 
in  the  Forest  are  thus  quite  free  from  undergrowth,  and  the 
noble  trees  with  their  smooth  ash-coloured  stems  can  be 
seen  in  perfection,  giving  a  cathedral  aisle  effect,  which  is 
erroneously  said  to  have  suggested  the  massive  columns 
and  groined  roofs  of  Gothic  architecture. 

"Where  thro'  the  long-drawn  aisle  and  fretted  vault, 
The  pealing  anthem  swells  the  note  of  praise." 

There  is,  too,  an  unearthly  effect  at  times  to  be  seen 
beneath  them,  so  exaggerated  as  to  remind  one  of  the  stage 
setting  of  a  pastoral  play,  with  all  the  enhancing  artificial 
contrivance  of  light  and  shade.  It  is  to  be  seen  only  on  a 
brilliantly  sunny  day,  where  the  contour  of  the  space 
around  the  stem  and  below  the  branches  takes  the  form  of 
an  arched  cavern,  flooded  by  a  single  shaft  of  sunlight, 
piercing  the  foliage  at  one  particular  spot,  lighting  up  the 
floor  carpeted  with  last  year's  red-brown  leaves,  and 
emphasizing  the  gloom  of  the  walls  and  roof.  Imagination 
instantly  supplies  the  players,  for  a  more  perfect  setting 
for  Rosalind  and  Celia,  Orlando  and  the  melancholy  Jaques, 


WILLOW  19d 

it  would  be  impossible  to  conceive.  It  is  said  that  the 
ancient  Greeks  could  see  with  their  ears  and  hear  with  their 
eyes,  a  privilege  doubtless  granted  to  the  nature  lover 
in  all  ages.  In  the  Forest  some  of  the  most  ancient  and 
remarkable  trees  have  borne  for  generations  descriptive 
names  such  as  the  King  and  Queen  oaks  at  Boldrewood, 
and  the  Eagle  oak  in  Knightwood.  The  communion 
between  human  and  tree  life  is  well  illustrated  by  a 
passage  from  Thoreau's  W olden :  "  I  frequently  tramped 
eight  or  ten  miles  through  the  deepest  snow  to  keep  an 
appointment  with  a  beech  tree,  or  a  yellow  birch,  or  an  old 
acquaintance  among  the  pines." 

At  Aldington  a  most  valuable  tree  was  the  willow,  or 
"  withy,"  as  it  is  called  in  Worcestershire,  though  in 
Hampshire  the  latter  name  is  given  to  the  Goat  willow,  or 
sallow  ("  sally,"  in  Worcestershire),  bearing  the  pretty 
blossoms  known  as  palms,  which  in  former  times  were 
worn  by  men  and  boys  in  country  places  on  Palm  Sunday. 
My  brooks  were  bordered  on  both  sides  by  pollard  withies, 
the  whole  being  divided  into  seven  parts  or  annual  cuts, 
so  that,  as  they  are  lopped  every  seven  years  a  cut  came  in 
for  lopping  each  year.  They  were  then  well  furnished  with 
long  and  heavy  poles,  which  were  severed  close  to  the  head 
of  the  pollard  with  a  sharp  axe.  When  on  the  ground,  the 
brushwood  was  cut  off  and  tied  into  "  kids  "  (faggots) 
for  fire-lighting,  the  poles  being  made  into  hurdles  or  sold 
to  the  crate-makers  in  the  potteries  for  crates  in  which  to 
pack  earthenware  goods  of  all  descriptions.  The  men 
employed  at  the  lopping  had  to  stand  on  the  heads  of  the 
pollards,  and  it  was  sometimes  quite  an  acrobatic  feat  to 
maintain  their  balance  on  a  small  swaying  tree,  or  on 
one  which  overhung  the  water. 

There  was  a  local  saying  that  "  the  withy  tree  would 
buy  the  horse,  while  the  oak  would  only  buy  the  halter," 
and  I  believe  it  to  be  perfectly  true;  for  the  uses  of  the 
withy  are  innumerable,  and  throughout  its  seven  years' 
growth  from  one  lopping  to  another  there  is  always 
something  useful  to  be  had  from  it,  with  its  final  harvest 


200  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


of  full-grown  poles.  One  year  after  lopping  the  super- 
fluous shoots  are  cut  out  and  used  or  sold  for  "  bonds  " 
for  tying  up  "  kids  "  or  the  mouths  of  corn  sacks.  As 
the  shoots  grow  stronger  more  can  be  taken — with 
ultimate  benefit  to  the  development  of  the  full-gro\Mi. 
poles — for  use  as  rick  pegs  and  "  buckles  "  in  thatching. 
The  buckles  are  the  wooden  pins  made  of  a  small  strip  of 
withy,  twisted  at  the  centre  so  that  it  can  be  doubled 
in  half  like  a  hairpin,  and  used  to  fix  the  rods  which  secure 
the  thatch  by  pressing  the  buckles  firmly  into  it.  In 
Hampshire  these  are  called  "  spars,"  and  they  are  sold 
in  bundles  containing  a  fixed  number. 

I  heard  an  amusing  story  about  these  spars.  A  certain 
thatcher,  we  may  call  him  Joe,  was  engaged  upon  the 
roof  of  a  cottage,  when  the  parson  of  the  parish  chanced 
to  pass  that  way.  Joe  had  of  late  neglected  his  atten- 
dance at  church,  and  the  vicar  saw  his  way  to  a  word  of 
advice.  After  "  passing  the  time  of  day  "  he  took  Joe 
to  task  for  his  neglected  attendance  and  waxing  warm 
expressed  his  fears  that  Joe  had  forgotten  all  his  Sunday- 
school  lessons  ;  he  was  doubtful  even,  he  said,  if  Joe 
could  tell  him  the  number  of  the  Commandments.  Joe 
confessed  his  ignorance.  "  Dear  me,"  said  the  vicar, 
"  to  think  that  in  this  nineteenth  century  any  man  could 
be  found  so  ignorant  as  not  to  know  the  number  of  the 
Commandments  !"  Joe  bided  his  time  until  the  vicar's 
attention  had  been  called  to  the  spars,  when  Joe  asked  him 
how  many  a  bundle  contained.  It  was  a  problem  that 
the  vicar  could  not  solve.  "Dear  me,"  said  Joe,  "to 
think  that  in  this  'ere  nineteenth  century  any  man  could 
be  found  so  ignorant  as  not  to  know  the  number  of  spars 
in  a  bundle  !"  Joe  always  added  when  telling  the  story, 
"  But  there,"  I  says,  "  every  beggar,"  I  says,  "  to  his 
trade,"  I  says. 

Sometimes  a  picturesque  gipsy  would  come  to  the 
Manor  House  with  clothes-pegs  for  sale,  and  she  generally 
negotiated  a  deal,  for  everybody  has  a  sneaking  regard 
for  the  gipsies  and  their  romantic  life  sub  Jove.     Walking 


WILLOW  201 

round  the  farm  shortly  afterwards  I  would  come  upon 
the  remams  of  their  fire  and  deserted  camp  by  the  road- 
side close  to  the  brook,  the  ground  st^e^\Tl  with  the  peel 
and  refuse  from  the  materials  with  which  they  had  supplied 
themselves  gratis,  and  I  recognized  that  we  had  been 
buying  goods  made  from  my  o^vn  withies.  Even  so  we 
did  not  complain,  for  no  real  harm  was  done  to  the  trees. 

The  heads  of  these  old  pollards  are  favourite  places  for 
birds' -nests,  and  all  kinds  of  plants  and  bushes  take  root 
in  their  decaying  fibre,  the  seeds  having  been  carried  by 
the  birds;  so  that  ivy,  brambles,  wild  gooseberries, 
currants,  raspberries,  nut  bushes  and  elders,  can  be  seen 
growing  there.  Whenever  the  foxhounds  ran  a  fox  to 
Aldington  he  was  always  lost  near  the  brookside,  and  it 
was  said  that  the  cunning  beast  eluded  the  hounds  by 
mounting  a  pollard  and  jumping  from  one  to  another, 
until  the  scent  was  dissipated.  It  was  also  a  tradition 
that  when  hunting  began  on  the  Cotswolds  the  ex- 
perienced foxes  left  for  the  Vale,  leaving  the  less  crafty  to 
fight  it  out  with  the  hounds;  for  the  Evesham  district  was 
seldom  visited  by  the  hunt,  owing  to  possible  damage  to  the 
highly  cultivated  winter  crops  of  the  market-gardeners. 

Jarge  had  a  very  narrow  escape  when  grubbing  out  an 
old  willow  overhanging  a  pool.  He  had  been  at  work 
some  hours,  and  had  a  deep  trench  dug  out  all  round  the 
tree,  to  attack  the  roots  with  a  stock-axe.  He  had  cut 
them  all  through  except  the  tough  tap-root,  when  I 
reached  him,  and  he  was  standing  in  the  trench  at  work 
upon  it.  He  was  certain  that  it  would  be  some  time  before 
the  tree  fell,  the  tap-root  being  very  large;  but,  as  I  stood 
watching  on  the  ground  above,  I  thought  I  saw  a  suspicious 
tremor  pass  over  the  tree,  and  an  instant  later  I  was  certain 
it  was  coming  down.  I  shouted  to  him  to  get  out  of  the 
trench.  It  took  a  second  or  two  to  get  clear,  as  the 
trench  was  deep,  and  he  was  not  a  tall  man,  so  he  was 
scarcely  out  when  the  tree  fell  with  a  crash  on  the  exact 
spot  where  he  had  been  at  work.  Had  I  not  been  present 
it  must  have  fallen  upon  him,  for  not  expecting  the  end 


202  ^iV  ENGLISH  MANOR 


was  so  near  he  had  not  been  watching  the  signs.  Though 
not  a  tall  tree,  it  was  a  very  stout  and  heavy  trunk,  and 
the  tap-root  on  inspection  proved  to  be  partly  rotten. 

"  Forth  into  the  fields  I  went. 
And  Nature's  living  motion  lent 
The  pulse  of  hope  to  discontent. 

"  I  wonder'd  at  the  bounteous  hours, 
The  slow  result  of  winter  showers: 
You  scarce  could  see  the  grass  for  flowers. 

"  I  wonder'd,  while  I  paced  along: 
The  woods  were  fill'd  so  full  with  song, 
There  seemed  no  room  for  sense  of  wrong." 

Such  is  Tennyson's  description  of  a  spring  day  in  the  fields 
and  woods,  and  nothing  more  beautiful  could  be  written. 
And  so  it  was  with  joy  that  my  men  and  carter  boys 
with  waggons  and  teams  started  early  on  the  spring 
mornings  to  bring  home  the  newly  purchased  hop-poles 
from  the  distant  woods.  These  poles  are  sold  by  auction 
in  stacks  where  they  are  cut,  and  the  buyer  has  to  cart 
them  home.  Usually,  after  a  successful  hop  year  they 
were  in  great  demand ;  prices  would  rise  in  proportion,  and 
the  early  seller  did  well,  but  when  the  later  sales  came 
sometimes,  the  demand  being  satisfied,  there  would  be 
a  heavy  fall  in  values,  and  as  a  cunning  buyer  expressed 
it,  "  The  poles  lasted  longer  than  the  money." 

The  dainty  catkins  of  the  hazel  are  the  first  sign  of 
awakening  life  in  the  woods;  they  are  well  out  by  the 
end  of  January  or  early  in  February,  and  as  they  ripen, 
clouds  of  pollen  are  disseminated  by  the  wind.  Tennyson 
speaks  of  "  Native  hazels  tassel-hung."  The  female 
bloom,  which  is  the  immediate  precursor  of  the  nut 
itself,  is  a  pretty  little  pink  star,  which  can  be  found  on 
the  same  branch  as  the  catkin  but  is  much  less  conspicuous ; 
and  both  are  a  very  welcome  sight,  as  almost  the  earliest 
hmt  of  spring.  The  hazel  bloom  is  shortly  followed  by 
the  green  leaves  of  the  woodbine,  which  climbs  so  exultingly 
to  the  tops  of  the  highest  trees  and  breathes  its  fragrance 
on   a   summer   evening.     In   the   New   Forest  the  green 


WILLOW  208 

hellebore  is  early  and  noticeable  from  its  peculiar  green 
blossoms,  but  I  have  not  seen  it  in  Worcestershire. 

My  men  and  teams  were  generally  off  to  the  hills, 
Blockley,  Broadway,  Winchcombe,  Farmcote,  and  such- 
like out-of-the-way  places,  when  the  wet  "  rides  "  in  the 
woods  were  drying  up.  The  boys  especially  revelled  in 
the  flowers — primroses  and  wild  hyacinths — and  came  home 
with  huge  bunches;  they  enjoyed  the  novelty  of  the  woods 
and  the  wild  hill-country,  which  is  such  a  contrast  to  the 
flat  and  highly  cultivated  Vale. 

When  unloaded  at  home  the  poles  have  to  be  trinuned, 
cut  to  the  proper  length,  12  to  14  feet,  "  sharped," 
"  shaved  "  at  the  butt  2  or  3  feet  upwards,  and  finally 
boiled  so  far  for  twenty-four  hours,  standing  upright  in 
creosote,  which  doubles  the  lasting  period  of  their  exis- 
tence. They  were  chiefly  ash,  larch,  maple,  wych  elm, 
and  sallow,  and  the  rough  butts,  when  sawn  off  before 
the  sharping,  supplied  the  firing  for  the  boiling.  Green 
ash  is  splendid  for  burning:  "  The  ash  when  green  is  fuel  for 
a  Queen."  Later,  when  I  adopted  a  Kentish  system  of 
hop-growing  on  coco-nut  yarn  supported  by  steel  wire 
on  heavy  larch  poles,  our  visits  to  the  woods  were  less 
frequent,  and  much  wear  and  tear  of  horses  and  waggons 
was  saved.  Some  of  our  journeys,  in  the  earlier  days, 
took  us  to  the  estate  of  the  Due  d'Aumale,  on  the 
Worcester  side  of  Evesham,  where  some  excellent  ash 
poles  were  grown.  In  one  lot  of  some  thousands  I  bought, 
every  pole  had  a  crook  in  it  ("  like  a  dog's  hind  leg,"  my 
men  said),  about  2  or  3  feet  from  the  ground,  which  was 
caused  by  the  Due  having  given  orders  some  years 
previously,  on  the  occasion  of  a  visit  from  the  Prince  of 
Wales  (the  late  King  Edward),  to  have  a  large  area  of 
young  coppice  cut  off  at  that  height,  to  make  a  specially 
convenient  piece  of  walking  and  pheasant  shooting  for 
the  Prince. 

On  this  occasion  many  people  went  to  Evesham 
Station  to  see  the  arrival  of  the  Prince  and  retinue,  and 
their  departure  for  Wood  Norton  in  the  Due's  carriages. 


204  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

Our  old  vicar  was  returning  full  of  loyalty,  and  passing 
an  ancient  Badsey  radical  inquired  if  he  had  been  to  see 
the  Prince.  "  Noa,  sir,"  was  the  reply,  "  I  been  a-working 
hard  to  get  some  money  to  keep  'e  with."  In  some  of  the 
Wood  Norton  woods  there  are  large  numbers  of  fir  trees, 
planted,  it  was  said,  as  roosting  places  for  the  pheasants, 
so  that  they  might  not  be  visible  to  the  night  poacher; 
but  it  was  found  that  the  birds  preferred  the  leafless 
trees,  where  they  offer  an  easy  pot  shot  in  the  moonlight 
or  in  the  grey  of  the  dawn. 

The  Scots-fir  is  an  interloper  in  the  New  Forest,  and 
always  looks  out  of  place;  it  was  introduced  as  an  ex- 
periment I  believe,  less  than  150  years  ago,  and  has  been 
found  useful  as  I  have  explained  for  sheltering  young 
plantations  of  oaks.  It  grows  rapidly,  and  has  been 
planted  by  itself  on  land  too  poor  for  more  valuable 
timber,  chiefly  for  pit-props.  During  the  war  immense 
numbers  of  Canadians  and  Portuguese  have  been  employed 
in  felling  these  trees  and  cutting  them  up  into  stakes 
for  wire  entanglements,  trench  timbers,  and  sleepers  for 
light  railways.  Huge  temporary  villages  have  grown 
up  for  the  accommodation  of  the  men  employed,  equipped 
with  steam  sawing-tackle,  canteens,  offices  and  quarters, 
and  with  light  railways  running  far  away  into  the  planta- 
tions where  tne  trees  are  cut.  It  was  a  wonderful  sight 
to  see  these  busy  centres  alive  with  men  and  machinery, 
in  places  where  before  there  was  nothing  but  the  silence 
of  the  woods.  And  it  is  curious  that,  as  in  the  old 
days  the  New  Forest  provided  the  oak  timber  for  the 
battleships  that  fought  upon  the  sea  in  Nelson's  time, 
so  now,  in  the  fighting  on  land,  we  have  been  able  to 
export  from  the  same  place  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
tons  of  fir  for  the  use  of  our  troops  in  France  and 
Belgium. 

Old  railway  sleepers  are  exceedingly  useful  for  many 
purposes  on  farms,  and  as  they  are  soaked  in  creosote, 
they  last  many  years,  for  light  bridges  and  rough  shelters, 
after  they  are  worn  out  for  railway  purposes.     The  railway 


SCOTS-FIR  20 


company  adjoining  my  land  discarded  a  quantity  of  these 
partly  defective  sleepers,  and  left  them,  for  a  time,  lying 
beside  the  hedge  which  separated  the  line  from  my  fields. 
I  applied  to  the  Company  for  some,  and  suggested  that 
they  need  only  be  put  over  the  hedge,  and  I  would  cart 
them  away.  But  that  is  not  the  routine  of  the  working 
of  such  matters;  though  it  appeals  to  the  simple  rustic 
mind,  it  would  be  considered  "  irregular."  They  had  to 
be  loaded  on  trucks  sent  specially  on  the  railway,  taken 
to  Worcester  sixteen  miles  by  train,  unloaded,  sorted, 
loaded  again,  sent  back  to  my  station,  unloaded,  loaded 
again  on  to  my  waggons,  and  carted  a  mile  and  a  half 
on  the  waggons  which  had  been  sent  empty  the  same 
distance  to  the  station  ! 

Overgrown  old  hedges  are  exceedingly  pretty  in  autumn 
when  hung  with  clusters  of  "  haws,"  the  brilliant  berries 
of  the  hawthorn,  and  the  "  hips  "  of  the  wild  rose.  There 
is,  too,  the  peculiar  pink-hued  berry  of  the  spindle  wood, 
and,  in  chalky  and  limestone  districts,  the  "  old  man's 
beard  "  of  the  wild  clematis,  bright  fresh  hazel  nuts,  and 
golden  wreaths  of  wild  hops.     It  is  said  that 

"  Hops,  reformation,  bays  and  beer 
Came  into  England  all  in  a  year." 

But  it  is  certain  that  the  wild  hops  at  any  rate  must 
have  been  indigenous,  for  one  finds  them  in  neighbourhoods 
far  from  districts  where  hops  are  cultivated,  and  the 
couplet  probably  refers  to  the  Flemish  variety,  which 
would  be  the  sort  imported  in  the  days  of  Henry  VIII., 
though  at  the  present  time  our  best  varieties  are  far 
superior. 

The  holly  is  only  seen  as  garden  hedges  in  the  more 
sandy  parishes  of  Worcestershire,  but  here  in  the  Forest 
it  is  a  splendid  feature,  growing  to  a  great  size  and  height. 
In  winter  its  bright  shining  leaves  reflecting  the  sunlight 
enliven  the  woods,  so  that  we  never  get  the  bare  and 
cheerless  look  of  places  where  the  elm  and  the  whitethorn 
hedge  dominate  the  landscape.     In  spring  its  small  white 


206  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

blossoms  are  thickly  distributed,  and  at  Christmas  its 
scarlet  berries  are  ever  welcome.  Its  prickles  protect  it 
from  browsing  cattle  and  Forest  ponies,  but  it  is  interest- 
ing to  notice  that  many  of  the  leaves  on  the  topmost 
branches  being  out  of  reach  of  the  animals  are  devoid  of 
this  protection. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

CORN— WHEAT— RIDGE  AND  FURROW— BARLEY— FARMERS 
NEWSTYLE  AND  OLDSTYLE 

"  He  led  me  thro'  the  short  sweet-smelling  lanes 
Of  his  wheat-suburb,  babbling  as  he  went." 

The  Brook. 

I  DO  not  propose  to  enter  upon  the  ordinary  details  of 
arable  farming,  as  not  of  very  general  interest,  except  for 
those  actually  engaged  thereon.  I  am  aiming  especially 
at  the  more  unusual  crops,  and  what  I  may  call  the 
curiosities  of  agriculture.  It  is  most  interesting  to  turn 
to  Virgil's  Georgics  and  see  how  they  apply  after  the 
lapse  of  nearly  twenty  centuries  to  the  farm-work  of  the 
present  day.  Horace,  too,  was  a  farmer,  though  perhaps 
more  of  an  amateur;  he  exclaims  at  the  busy  scene  pre- 
sented when  men  and  horses  are  engaged  in  active  field 
work: 

"Heu  heu  !  quantus  equis  quantus  adest  viris 

Sudor  .1 " 

which,  by  the  way,  was  rendered  with  Victorian  propriety 
by  a  well-known  Oxford  professor,  "  What  a  quantity  of 
perspiration  !"  etc.  Probably  Horace  had  been  watching 
the  sowing  of  barley  or  oats  on  a  fine  March  morning, 
"  the  peck  of  March  dust,"  which  we  know  is  "  worth 
a  King's  ransom,"  flying  behind  the  harrows.  George 
Cruikshank  gives  a  very  spirited  and  comic  realization 
of  Horace's  lines,  in  Hoskin's  Talpa,  where  ploughing, 
sowing,  harrowing,  reaping,  harvesting,  thrashing,  grinding 
and  carting  away  the  finished  product,  are  all  actively 
proceeding  in  the  same  field. 

The  origin  of  the  word  "  field,"  still  locally  pronounced 
"  feld,"  as  in  "  Badsey  Feld,"  near  Evesham,  takes  us 
back  to  primeval  times  when  the  country  was  mostly 

207 


208  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

forest,  of  which  certain  parts  had  been  "  felled,"  and 
were  thus  distinguished  as  opposed  to  the  untouched 
portions.  We  may  be  sure  that  the  best  pieces  of  land 
were  the  first  to  be  brought  under  cultivation,  and  it  is 
th\is  that  the  best  land  in  most  old  parishes,  at  the  present 
day,  is  to  be  found  close  to  the  village,  and  is  generally  a 
portion  of  the  manor  property.  Later,  where  glebe  was 
allotted  for  the  parson's  benefit,  the  poorer  parts  were 
apparently  considered  good  enough  for  the  purpose,  so 
that  we  generally  expect  to  find  the  glebe  on  somewhat 
inferior  land. 

Wheat-growing  at  Aldington  and  on  most  heavy  soils 
was  practically  killed  by  the  vast  importations  from  the 
United  States,  rendered  possible  by  the  extraction  of 
the  natural  fertility  of  her  virgin  soils,  and  by  the  develop- 
ment of  steam  traction  and  transport,  resulting  in  the 
food  crisis  at  home  during  the  war.  The  loss  of  arable 
land  converted  to  inferior  grass  amounted,  in  the  forty 
years  from  1874  to  1914,  to  no  less  than  four  million 
acres.  I  made  such  changes  in  my  own  cropping  that, 
where  I  formerly  grew  100  acres  of  wheat  annually,  I 
reduced  the  area  to  ten  or  twenty  acres,  mainly  for  the 
sake  of  the  straw  for  litter  and  thatching  purposes. 

Wheat  can  be  planted  in  what  would  be  considered 
a  very  unsuitable  tilth  for  barley.  We  had  often  to 
follow  the  drills — where  they  had  cut  into  the  clayey  soil, 
leaving  the  seed  uncovered,  and  where  the  ground  was  so 
sticky  and  "unkind"  that  harrowing  had  very  little  effect 
— with  forks,  turning  the  clods  over  the  exposed  seed, 
and  treading  them  down.  Wheat  seems  to  like  as  firm 
a  seed-bed  as  possible,  for  the  best  crop  was  always 
on  the  headland,  where  the  turning  of  the  horses  and 
implements  had  reduced  the  soil  to  the  condition  of 
mortar.  The  seed  would  lie  in  the  cold  ground  for  many 
weeks  before  the  blade  made  its  appearance,  but  the 
men  always  said,  "  'Twill  be  heavy  in  the  head  when  it 
lies  long  abed."  It  is  cheering  in  late  autumn  and  early 
winter  when  no  other  young  growth  is  to  be  seen  on  the 


WHEAT  203 

farm,  suddenly  to  find  the  field  covered  with  the  fresh 
shoots  of  the  wheat  in  regular  lines,  and  to  notice  how, 
after  its  first  appearance,  it  makes  little  further  upright 
growth  for  a  time,  but  spreads  laterally  over  the  ground 
as  the  roots  extend  downwards. 

Nothing  in  the  way  of  weather  will  kill  wheat,  except 
continuous  heavy  rain  in  winter,  where  the  land  is  un- 
drained,  and  stagnant  water  collects.  I  have  seen  it 
in  May  lying  flat  on  the  ground  after  a  severe  spring 
frost,  but  in  a  day  or  two  it  would  pick  up  again  as  if 
nothing  had  happened.  And  I  have  seen  beans,  2  feet 
high,  cut  down  and  doubled  up,  revive  and  rear  up  their 
heads  quite  happily,  though  at  harvest  the  exact  spot  in 
every  stalk  could  be  seen  where  the  wound  had  taken 
place. 

In  May,  if  the  weather  is  cold  and  ungenial,  wheat  turns 
yellow;  this  is  the  weaning  time  of  the  young  plants, 
which  have  then  exhausted  the  nourishment  contained  in 
the  seed,  and  in  the  absence  of  growing  weather  they  do 
not  take  kindly  to  the  food  in  the  land,  upon  which  they  now 
become  dependent. 

"  The  fanner  came  to  his  wheat  in  31ay, 
And  right  sorrowfully  went  away, 
Tlie  farmer  came  to  his  wheat  in  June, 
And  went  away  whisthng  a  merry  tune." 

His  wheat  was  what  is  called  "  May-sick  "  the  first  time, 
but  had  recovered  on  the  second  visit,  for  another  old 
saw  tells  us  that,  "  A  dripping  June  puts  all  in  time." 

May  is  said  "  Never  to  go  out  without  a  wheat-ear," 
but  I  do  not  think  this  is  invariably  true,  though  by 
splitting  open  a  young  wheat  stem  it  is  easy  to  find  the 
embryo  ear,  only  about  half  an  inch  long.  I  have  heard 
people  exclaiming  at  the  beautiful  effect  of  the  breezes 
passing  over  a  luxuriant  field  of  growing  wheat,  giving 
the  appearance  of  waves  on  a  lake;  but  when  the  wheat 
is  in  bloom,  it  is  doubtful  if  this  is  a  reason  for  congratu- 
lation, as  the  blooms  are  rubbed  off  in  the  process,  which 

14 


210  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

may  be  the  cause  of  thin-chested  ears  at  harvest,  when, 
instead  of  being  set  in  full  rows  of  four  or  five  grains 
abreast,  only  two  or  three  can  be  found,  reducing  the 
total  number  in  an  ear  from  a  maximum  of  about  seventy 
to  fifty  or  less. 

"  God  makes  the  grass  to  grow  greener  while  the 
farmer's  at  his  dinner,"  is  a  proverb  which  may  be  applied 
to  almost  any  enterprise,  for  optimism  is  largely  a 
physical  matter,  and  "  it  is  ill  talking  with  a  hungry  man." 

I  suppose  that  no  man,  even  with  the  dullest  imagination, 
can  fail  to  walk  across  a  wheat  field  at  harvest  without 
being  reminded  of  some  of  the  innumerable  stories  and 
allusions  to  corn  fields  in  the  Bible.  He  will  remember 
how,  when  the  famine  was  sore  in  the  land  of  Canaan, 
Jacob  sent  his  ten  sons  to  Egypt  to  buy  corn,  and  how 
Joseph  knew  his  brethren,  but  they  knew  him  not;  with 
the  touching  details  of  his  emotion,  until  he  could  no 
longer  refrain  himself,  and,  weeping,  made  himself  known. 
How  he  bade  them  return,  and  bring  their  aged  father, 
their  little  ones,  and  their  flocks  and  herds,  to  dwell  in 
the  land  of  Goshen. 

His  mind,  too,  will  revert  to  the  commandment  given 
to  Moses,  "  When  ye  reap  the  harvest  of  your  land,  thou 
shalt  not  wholly  reap  the  corners  of  thy  field,  neither 
shalt  thou  gather  the  gleanings  of  thy  harvest  " ;  so  that 
he  will  meet  the  villagers  with  a  word  of  welcome, 
when  they  invade  his  fields  for  the  same  time-honoured 
purpose. 

He  will  remember  the  story  of  Ruth  and  Boaz,  told  in 
the  exquisite  poetry  of  the  Bible  diction,  than  which 
nothing  in  the  whole  range  of  literature  can  compare  in 
noble  simplicity.  And  the  corn  fields  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, where  the  disciples  plucked  the  ears  of  corn,  and 
were  encouraged,  and  the  accusing  Pharisees  rebuked; 
with  the  conclusive  declaration  that  the  Sabbath  was 
made  for  man  and  not  man  for  the  Sabbath.  And,  finally, 
the  familiar  chapter  in  the  burial  service,  which  has 
brought  comfort  to  thousands  of  mourners,  and  will  so 


WHEAT  211 

continue  till  the  last   harvest,   which  is  the  end  of  the 
world,  when  the  angels  will  be  the  reapers. 

The  word  "  gleaning  "  is  never  heard  in  Worcestershire 
for  collecting  the  scattered  wheat  stems  and  ears;  it  is 
invariably  "  leasing  "  from  the  Old  English,  lesan,  to  gather 
or  collect  anyhing.  When  wheat  was  fairly  high  in  price 
the  village  women  and  children  were  in  the  field  as  soon 
as  it  was  cleared  of  sheaves,  and  they  made  a  pretty  picture 
scattered  about  the  golden  stubble,  and  returning  through 
the  meadows  and  lanes  at  twilight  with  their  ample 
gatherings. 

The  "  leasings "  would  be  thrashed  by  husband  or 
brother  with  the  old  flail,  in  one  of  my  barns,  to  be  then 
ground  at  the  village  mill,  and  lastly  baked  into  fragrant 
loaves  of  home-made  bread — the  "  dusky  loaf,"  as 
Tennyson  says,  "  that  smelt  of  home."  One  good  old 
soul  brought  me  every  week,  while  the  "  leased  corn  " 
lasted,  a  small  loaf  called  "  a  batch  cake,"  and  continued 
the  gift  later,  made  from  wheat  grown  on  the  family 
allotment;  her  loaves  were  some  of  the  best  and  the 
sweetest  bread  I  have  ever  tasted. 

"  The  man  who  makes  two  blades  of  grass  grow  where 
one  grew  before  "  is  said  to  be  a  national  benefactor,  and, 
I  suppose,  the  same  adage  applies  a  fortiori  to  wheat, 
but  I  have  never  seen  a  monument  raised  to  his  memory 
or  even  the  circulation  of  the  national  hat  for  his  benefit. 
Too  often  the  only  proof  of  his  neighbour's  recognition 
of  his  improved  crops  is  the  notification  of  an  increased 
assessment  of  the  amount  of  his  liability  to  contribute 
to  what  is,  still  quite  unsuitably,  called  the  poor  rate. 

Wheat  rejoices  in  a  tropical  summer,  and  it  never 
succeeds  better  than  when  stiff  land  like  mine  splits 
into  deep  cracks,  locally  called  "  chawns."  You  can 
see  the  root-fibres  crossing  these  cracks  which  go  so  far 
into  the  earth  that  a  walking-stick  can  be  inserted  to 
touch  the  drain  pipes  in  the  furrows  at  a  depth  of  2\  or 
8  feet.  Apparently  this  cracking  acts  as  a  kind  of  root- 
pruning,  and   lets  in  the  heat  of  the  sun  to  the  lower 


212  ^A^  ENGLISH  MANOR 


roots  of  the  corn,  witli  the  result  of,  wliat  is  called,  a  great 
"  cast  "  (yield)  to  the  acre. 

In  building  wheat  ricks  the  most  important  point  is 
to  arrange  the  sheaves  with  the  butts  sloping  outwards, 
so  that  should  rain  fall  before  thatching,  the  water  will 
run  away  from  the  centre.  I  remember  at  Alton,  where 
the  rick-builder  was  an  old  and  experienced  man,  he 
neglected  this  precaution;  some  weeks  of  heavy  rain 
followed,  but  in  time  the  thatching  was  completed,  and 
nobody  dreamed  of  any  harm.  When  the  thrashing 
machine  arrived,  and  the  ricks  were  uncovered,  the  wheat 
was  found  so  damp  that,  in  places,  the  ears  had  grown 
into  solid  mats,  and  the  sheaves  could  only  be  parted 
by  cutting  with  a  hay-knife.  The  old  man  was  so  dis- 
comfited that  the  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks,  and  the 
master's  loss  amounted  to  something  like  £300.  There 
was  not  a  sack  of  dry  wheat  on  that  particular  farm 
that  winter,  though  some  was  saleable  at  a  reduced  price. 
He  told  me  that  it  was  a  costly  business  for  him,  but  worth 
any  money  as  a  lesson  to  me.  I  took  it  to  heart,  and 
we  never  left  a  rick  uncovered  at  Aldington;  as  fast  as  one 
was  completed,  and  the  builder  descended  the  ladder, 
the  thatcher  took  his  place,  and  temporarily  "  hung  " 
it  with  straw,  secured  by  partially  driven-in  rick  pegs 
until  we  could  find  time  to  attend  to  the  regular 
thatching. 

The  high  ridges  and  deep  furrows,  to  be  seen  on  the 
heavy  arable  lands  of  the  Vale  of  Evesham,  are  a  source 
of  wonderment  to  people  who  come  from  light  land  dis- 
tricts, and  who  do  not  recognize  how  impervious  is  the 
subsoil  to  the  penetration  of  water.  The  origin  of  these 
highly  banked  ridges  dates  from  far-away  days  before 
land  drain  pipes  were  obtainable,  and  it  was  the  only 
possible  arrangement  to  prevent  the  perishing  of  crops  from 
standing  water  in  the  winter.  The  rain  quickly  found  its 
way  into  the  furrows  from  the  ridges,  and,  as  they  always 
sloped  in  the  direction  of  the  lowest  part  of  the  field, 
the  superfluous  water  soon  disappeared.     Even  now,  when 


RIBGE  AND  FURROW  213 


drain  pipes  are  laid  in  the  furrows,  it  is  not  advisable  to 
level  the  ridges,  because  the  water  would  take  much  longer 
to  find  the  drains,  and  the  growing  crop  would  be  en- 
dangered. It  is  not  safe  to  drain  this  land  deeper  than 
about  2|  feet,  and  many  thousands  of  pounds  have  been 
misapplied  where  draining  has  been  done  on  money 
borrowed  from  companies  who  insist  upon  3  feet  as  the 
minimum  depth  for  any  portion  of  the  drain,  which  would 
mean  much  more  than  that  where  the  drain  occasionally 
passes  through  a  stretch  of  rising  ground.  As  proving 
my  statement  that  2\  feet  is  quite  deep  enough,  I  have 
seen  great  pools  of  water  after  a  heavy  rain  standing 
exactly  over  the  drain  in  the  furrows,  and  we  had  some- 
times to  pierce  the  soil  to  the  depth  of  the  pipes,  with  an 
iron  rod  made  for  the  purpose,  before  the  water  could  get 
away. 

On  light  land,  the  subsoil  of  which  is  often  full  of  water, 
the  case  is  quite  different,  and  the  pipes  must  be  laid 
much  deeper  to  relieve  its  water-logged  condition;  but  on 
our  stiff  clay  the  subsoil  was  comparatively  dry,  and  we 
had  to  provide  onl)^  for  the  discharge  of  the  surface  water 
as  quickly  as  possible,  where  the  solid  clay  beneath 
prevented  its  sinking  into  the  lower  layers. 

In  the  subsoil  of  the  lias  clay  there  are  large  numbers 
of  a  fossil  shell,  Gryphea  incurva,  known  locally  as  "  devils 
claws";  they  certainly  have  a  demoniac  claw-like  ap- 
pearance, and  worry  the  drainers  by  catching  on  the  blade 
of  the  draining  tool,  and  preventing  its  penetration  into 
the  clay. 

I  have  heard  the  suggestion  that  our  highly  banked 
ridges  were  intended  to  increase  the  surface  of  the  land 
available  for  the  crops,  just  as  it  takes  more  cloth  to  cover 
a  hump  back  than  a  normal  one,  but  of  course  the 
rounded  ridge  does  not  provide  any  more  vertical  position 
for  the  crop,  and  the  theory  cannot  be  maintained.  Some 
of  these  ridges,  "  lands  "  as  they  are  called,  are  so  wide 
and  so  elevated  that  it  was  said  that  two  teams  could  pass 
each  other  in  the  furrows,  on  either  side  of  a  single  "  land," 


214  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


so  hidden  by  the  high  ridge  that  they  could  not  see  one 
another;  and  I  myself  have  noticed  them  on  abandoned 
arable  land  that  has  been  in  grass  from  time  immemorial, 
so  high  as  nearly  to  answer  the  description.  Though  the 
blue  clay  in  the  Vale  of  Evesham  is  so  tenacious,  it  works 
beautifully  after  a  few  sharp  frosts,  splitting  up  into 
laminations  that  form  a  splendidly  mouldy  seed  bed, 
so  that  frost  has  been  eloquently  called  "  God's  plough." 

It  is  a  very  curious  fact  that  many  of  these  old  "  lands  " 
take  the  form  of  a  greatly  elongated  1  (S  backwards), 
though  not  so  pronounced  as  that  figure,  for  the  curves 
are  only  visible  towards  the  ends,  and  these  curves  always 
turn  to  the  left  of  anyone  walking  towards  the  end. 
Various  explanations  have  been  given,  and  one  by 
Lord  Avebury  is  the  nearest  approach  to  a  correct 
solution  which  I  have  seen,  though  not,  I  think,  quite 
accurate.  My  own  idea  is  that,  as  the  plough  turns 
each  furrow-slice  only  to  the  right,  the  beginning  of 
the  ridge  would  be  accomplished  by  two  furrows  tlirown 
together  on  the  top  of  each  other,  and  the  remainder  would 
be  gathered  around  them  by  continuing  the  process, 
until  the  "  land  "  was  formed  with  an  open  furrow  on  each 
side.  The  eight  oxen  would  be  harnessed  in  pairs,  or  the  four 
horses  tandem  fashion.  When  they  reached  the  end  of 
each  furrow-slice,  the  plough-boy,  walking  on  the  near  side, 
would  have  to  turn  the  long  team  on  the  narrow  headland, 
and  in  order  to  get  room  to  reach  a  position  for  starting 
the  next  furrow-slice,  he  would  have  to  bear  to  the  left 
before  commencing  the  actual  turn.  In  the  meantime 
the  horse  next  the  plough  would  be  completing  the  furrow- 
slice  alone,  and  would,  naturally,  try  to  follow  the  other 
three  horses  towards  the  left,  so  that  the  furrow-slice 
at  its  end  would  slightly  deviate  from  the  straight  line. 
When  the  horses  were  all  turned,  the  second  furrow-slice 
would  follow  the  error  in  the  first,  and  the  same  deviation 
would  occur  at  each  end  of  the  ploughing,  gradually  be- 
coming more  and  more  pronounced,  until  the  curved 
form   of   each   ridge   became    apparent.     Lord   Avebury 


niDGE  AND  FURROW  215 

says  that  when  the  driver,  walking  on  the  near  side,  reached 
the  end  of  each  furrow,   he  found  it  easier  to  turn  the 
team  by  pulHng  them  round  than  by  pushing  them,  thus 
accounting  for  the  slight  curvature. 
The  saying, 

"  He  that  by  the  plough  would  thrive 
Himself  must  either  hold  or  drive," 

is  largely  true,  but  only  the  small  farmer  can  comply 
with  it.  The  man  of  many  acres  cannot  restrict  his 
presence  to  one  field,  and  must  adopt  for  his  motto  the 
equally  true  proverb,  "  The  master's  eye  does  more 
than  both  his  hands." 

The  thrashing-machine  is  the  ultimate  test  of  the  yield 
or  cast  of  the  wheat  crop,  and  it  seems  to  have  something 
itself  to  say  about  it.  For  when  the  straw  is  short  the 
east  is  generally  good,  and  vice  versa.  In  the  first  case 
the  machine  runs  evenly,  and  gives  out  a  contented  and 
cheerful  hum,  but  in  the  second  it  remonstrates  with 
intermittent  grunts  and  groans.  Even  when  the  yield  is 
pretty  good,  the  voice  of  the  machine  is  not  nearly  so 
encouraging  to  the  imaginative  farmer,  when  prices  are 
low,  as  when  prices  are  up. 

Throughout  the  course  of  my  farming  the  gloomy  note 
of  the  machine  was  that  which  predominated,  but  in  the 
spring  of  1877,  on  the  prospect  of  complications  with 
Russia,  when  wheat  rose  to  I  think  nearly  70s.  a  quarter, 
it  was  again  a  cheerful  sound,  for  I  had  several  ricks  of 
the  previous  year's  crop  on  hand.  I  do  not  remember 
that  bread  rose  to  anything  like  the  extent  that  occurred 
in  the  Great  War.  Forty  years  has  marvellously  widened 
the  gap  between  the  raw  material  and  the  finished  product 
— that  is,  between  producer  and  consumer;  immense  in- 
creases have  taken  place  in  the  cost  of  labour  employed  by 
miller  and  baker,  and  rates  and  other  expenses  are  much 
higher. 

Farmers  do  not  lose  much  in  "  bad  debts  ";  they  have 
to  lay  out  their  capital  in  cash  payments  so  long  before 


216  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

the  return  that  they  are  not  expected  to  give  extended 
credit  when  sales  take  place,  and  for  corn  payment  is 
made  fourteen  days  after  the  sale  is  effected.  I  had  one 
rather  narrow  escape.  I  had  sold  150  sacks  of  wheat  to 
a  miller,  and  it  had  been  delivered  to  the  mill,  but  one 
evening  I  had  a  note  from  him  to  say  that  his  credit 
M'-as  in  question  on  the  local  markets.  "  A  nod,"  I 
thought,  "was  as  good  as  a  wink  to  a  blind  horse"; 
so  next  morning  I  sent  all  my  teams  and  waggons,  and 
by  night  had  carted  all  the  wheat  away,  except  twenty 
sacks,  which  had  already  been  ground.  The  miller  paid 
eventually  10s.  in  the  £,  so  my  loss  was  only  a  matter  of 
about  £10. 

A  similar  "chap  money,"  or  return  of  a  trifle  in  cash 
from  seller  to  buyer,  as  that  in  vogue  in  horse-dealing, 
still  exists  in  selling  corn;  it  goes  by  the  indefinite  name  of 
"  custom,"  and  in  Worcestershire  it  was  a  fixed  sum 
of  Is.  in  every  sixty  bushels  of  wheat,  and  Is.  in  every 
eighty  bushels  of  barley;  each  of  these  quantities  formed 
the  ancient  load.  I  think  the  payment  of  "  custom  " 
arose  when  tarpaulin  sheets  were  first  used  instead  of 
straw  to  cover  the  waggon  loads.  The  straw  never 
returned;  it  was  the  miller's  perquisite,  and  its  value 
paid  for  the  beer  to  which  the  carters  were  treated  at  the 
mill;  but  the  tarpaulin  comes  back  each  time,  so  the 
miller  gets  his  quid  pro  quo  in  the  "  custom." 

Barley  was  not  an  important  crop  at  Aldington,  the  land 
was  too  stiff,  but  I  had  some  fields  which  contained  lime- 
stone, where  good  crops  could  be  grown.  Even  there  it 
was  inclined  to  coarseness,  but  in  dry  seasons  sometimes 
proved  a  very  nice  bright  and  thin-skinned  sample. 
Before  the  repeal  of  the  malt  tax,  which  was  accompanied 
by  legislation  that  permitted  the  brewers  to  use  sugar, 
raw  grain  and  almost  anything,  including,  as  people  said, 
"  old  boots  and  shoes "  instead  of  barley  malt,  good 
prices,  up  to  42s.  a  quarter  and  over,  could  be  made;  but 
under  the  new  conditions,  the  maltsters  complained  that 
my  barley  was  too  good  for  them,  and  they  could  buy 


BARLEY  217 

foreign  stuff  at  about  22s.  or  24s.,  which,  with  the  help  of 
sugar,  produced  a  class  of  beer  quite  good  enough  for  the 
Black  Country  and  Pottery  consumers. 

I  heard  an  amusing  story  about  barley  in  Lincolnshire, 
some  years  before  the  repeal  of  the  malt  tax,  which,  I 
think,  is  worth  recording.  A  farmer,  after  a  very  hot 
summer  and  dry  harvest,  had  a  good  piece  of  barley 
which  he  offered  by  sample  in  Lincoln  market.  He  could 
not  make  his  price,  the  buyers  complaining  that  it  was 
too  hard  and  flinty.  He  went  home  in  disgust,  but, 
after  much  pondering,  thought  he  could  see  his  way  to 
meet  the  difficulty.  He  had  the  sacks  of  barley  "  shut  " 
on  his  barn  floor,  in  a  heap,  and  several  buckets  of  water 
poured  over  it.  The  heap  was  turned  daily  for  a  time, 
until  the  grain  had  absorbed  all  the  water,  and  there  was 
no  sign  of  external  moisture.  The  appearance  of  the 
barley  was  completely  changed:  the  hard  flinty  look  had 
vanished,  and  the  grain  presented  a  new  plumpness  and 
mellowness.  He  took  a  fresh  sample  to  Lincoln  next 
market  day,  and  made  2s.  or  3s.  a  quarter  more  than  he 
had  asked  for  it  in  its  original  condition. 

The  following  lines,  which  have  never  been  published 
except  in  a  local  newspaper,  though  written  many  years 
ago,  apply  quite  well  in  these  days  of  the  hoped-for 
revival  of  agriculture.  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  disclose 
the  writer's  identity  beyond  his  initials,  E.  W. 

FARMER  NEWSTYLE  AND  FARMER  OLDSTYLE 

"  Good  day,"  said  Farmer  Oldstyle,  taking  Newstyle  by  the  arm; 
"  I  be  cum  to  look  aboit  me,  wilt  'ee  show  me  o'er  thy  farm  ?" 
Young  Newstyle  took  his  wideawake,  and  lighted  a  cigar, 
And  said,  "  Won't  I  astonish  you,  old-fashioned  as  you  are  I 

"  No  doubt  you  have  an  aneroid  ?  ere  starting  you  shall  see 
How  truly  mine  prognosticates  what  weather  there  will  be." 
"  I  ain't  got  no  such  gimcracks ;  but  I  knows  there'll  be  a  flush 
When  I  sees  th'oud  ram  tak  shelter  wi'  his  tail  agen  a  bush." 

"  Allow  me  first  to  show  you  the  analysis  I  keep, 
And  the  compounds  to  explain  of  this  experimental  heap, 
Where  hydrogen  and  nitrogen  and  oxygen  abound. 
To  hasten  germination  and  to  fertilize  the  ground." 


218  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


"  A  putty  sight  o'  learning  you  have  piled  up  of  a  ruck; 
The  only  name  it  went  by  in  my  feyther's  time  was  muck. 
I  knows  not  how  the  tool  you  call  a  nallysis  may  work, 
I  turns  it  when  it's  rotten  pretty  handy  wi'  a  fork." 

"  A  famous  pen  of  Cotswolds,  pass  your  hand  along  the  back, 
Fleeces  fit  for  stuffing  the  Lord  Chancellor's  woolsack  1 
For  premiums  e'en  '  Inquisitor  '  would  own  these  wethers  are  fit, 
If  you  want  to  purchase  good  uns  you  must  go  to  Mr.  Garsit.  * 

"  Two  bulls  first  rate,  of  different  breeds,  the  judges  all  protest 
Both  are  so  super-excellent,  they  know  not  which  is  best. 
Fairi  could  he  see  this  Ayrshire,  would  with  jealousy  be  riled; 
That  hairy  one's  a  Welshman,  and  was  bred  by  Mr.  Wild."  ^ 

"  Well,  well,  that  little  hairy  bull,  he  shanna  be  so  bad: 
But  what  be  yonder  beast  I  hear,  a-bellowing  like  mad, 
A-snorting  fire  and  smoke  out  ?  be  it  some  big  Roosian  gun ! 
Or  be  it  twenty  bullocks  squez  together  into  one  ?" 

"  My  steam  factotum,  that.  Sir,  doing  all  I  have  to  do. 
My  ploughman  and  my  reaper,  and  my  jolly  thrasher,  too  I 
Steam's  yet  but  in  its  infancy,  no  mortal  man  alive 
Can  tell  to  what  perfection  modern  farming  mil  arrive." 

"  Steam  as  yet  is  but  an  infant  " — he  had  scarcely  said  the  word, 
When  through  the  tottering  farmstead  was  a  loud  explosion  heard; 
The  engine  dealing  death  around,  destruction  and  dismay; 
Though  steam  be  but  an  infant  this  indeed  was  no  child's  play. 

The  women  screamed  like  blazes,  as  the  blazing  hayrick  burned, 
The  sucking  pigs  were  in  a  crack,  all  into  crackling  turned; 
Grilled  chickens  clog  the  hencoop,  roasted  ducklings  choke  the  gutter, 
And  turkeys  round  the  poultry  yard  on  devilled  pinions  flutter. 

Two  feet  deep  in  buttermilk  the  stokers  two  feet  lie, 
The  cook  before  she  bakes  it  finds  a  finger  in  the  pie; 
The  labourers  for  their  lost  legs  are  looking  round  the  farm. 
They  couldn't  lend  a  hand  because  they  had  not  got  an  arm. 

Oldstyle  all  soot,  from  head  to  foot,  looked  like  a  big  black  sheep, 
Newstyle  was  thrown  upon  his  own  experimental  heap; 
"  That  weather-glass,"  said  Oldstyle,  "  canna  be  in  proper  fettle, 
Or  it  might  as  well  a  tow'd  us  there  was  thunder  in  the  kettle." 

*'  Steam  is  so  expansive."     "  Aye,"  said  Oldstyle,  "  so  I  see. 
So  expensive,  as  you  call  it,  that  it  winna  do  for  me; 
According  to  my  notion,  that's  a  beast  that  canna  pay, 
Who  champs  up  for  his  morning  feed  a  hundred  ton  of  hay." 

1  Celebrated  breeders  of  the  respective  sorts. 


FARMERS  NEWSTYLE  AND  OLDSTYLE    219 


Then  to  himself,  said  Oldstyle,  as  he  homewards  quickly  went, 
"  I'll  tak'  no  farm  where  doctors'  bills  be  heavier  than  the  rent; 
I've  never  in  hot  water  been,  steam  shanna  speed  my  plough, 
I'd  liefer  thrash  my  corn  out  by  the  sweat  of  my  own  brow. 

"  I  neither  want  to  scald  my  pigs,  nor  toast  my  cheese,  not  I, 
Afore  the  butcher  sticks  'em  or  the  factor  comes  to  buy ; 
They  shanna  catch  me  here  again  to  risk  my  limbs  and  loife; 
I've  nought  at  whoam  to  blow  me  up  except  it  be  my  woif." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

HOPS— INSECT  ATTACKS— HOP  FAIRS 

"  Oft  expectation  fails,  and  most  oft  there 
Where  most  it  promises ;  and  oft  it  hits 
Where  hope  is  coldest  and  despair  most  fits." 

AlVs  Well  that  Ends  Well. 

In  a  very  rare  black-letter  book  on  hop  culture,  A  Perfite 
Platforme  of  a  Hoppe  Garden,  published  in  the  year  1578 
and  therefore  over  340  years  old,  the  author,  Reynolde 
Scot,  has  the  following  quaint  remarks  on  one  of  the 
disorders  to  which  the  hop  plant  is  liable: 

'*  The  hoppe  that  liketh  not  his  entertainment,  namely 
his  seat,  his  ground,  his  keeper,  or  the  manner  of  his 
setting,  comith  up  thick  and  rough  in  leaves,  very  like 
unto  a  nettle;  and  will  be  much  bitten  with  a  little  black 
flye,  who,  also,  will  not  do  harme  unto  good  hoppes,  who 
if  she  leave  the  leaf  as  full  of  holes  as  a  nettle,  yet  she 
seldome  proceedeth  to  the  utter  destruction  of  the  Hoppe; 
where  the  garden  standeth  bleake,  the  heat  of  summer  will 
reform  this  matter." 

Thomas  Tusser,  who  lived  1515  to  1580,  in  his  Five 
Hundred  Points  of  Good  Husbandry,  included  many  season- 
able verses  on  Hop-growing,  among  which  the  following 
are  worth  quoting: 

May. 

Get  into  thy  hop-yard  for  now  it  is  time 

To  teach  Robin  Hop  on  his  pole  how  to  climb, 

To  follow  the  sun,  as  his  property  is, 

And  weed  him  and  trim  him  if  aught  go  amiss. 

June. 

Whom  fancy  perswadeth  among  other  crops. 
To  have  for  his  spending  sufKcient  of  hops: 

Must  willingly  follow  of  choices  to  chuse 
Such  lessons  approved,  as  skilfull  do  use. 
220 


HOPS— INSECT  ''ATTACKS  221 


Ground  gravelly,  sandy,  and  mixed  with  clay, 
Is  naughty  for  hops,  any  manner  of  way; 

Or  if  it  be  mingled  with  rubbish  and  stone, 
For  dryness  and  barrenness  let  it  alone. 

Chuse  soil  for  the  hop  of  the  rottenest  mould, 

Well  dunged  and  wrought  as  a  garden  plot  should: 

Not  far  from  the  water  (but  not  overflown). 
This  lesson  well  noted  is  meet  to  be  known. 

The  sun  in  the  south,  or  else  southly  and  west, 

Is  joy  to  the  hop,  as  welcomed  ghest: 
But  wind  in  the  north,  or  else  northerly  east, 

To  hop  is  as  ill,  as  a  fray  in  a  feast. 

Meet  plot  for  a  hop-yard,  once  found  as  is  told, 
Make  thereof  account,  as  of  Jewell  of  gold: 

Now  dig  it  and  leave  it  the  sun  for  to  burn, 
And  afterward  fence  it  to  serve  for  that  turn. 

The  hop  for  his  profit,  I  thus  do  exalt. 

It  strengtheneth  drink  and  it  favoureth  malt, 

And  being  well  brewed,  long  kept  it  will  last. 
And  drawing  abide,  if  ye  draw  not  too  fast. 

In  Worcestershire  and  Herefordshire  hop-gardens  are 
always  called  hop-yards,  which  seems  to  be  only  a  local 
and  more  ancient  form  of  the  same  word,  and  from  the 
same  root.  The  termination  occurs  also  in  "  orchard  " — 
from  the  Anglo-Saxon  ortgeard  (a  wort-yard) — "  olive- 
yard,"  and  "  vineyard." 

The  quotation  from  the  Perfite  Platforme  of  a  Hoppe 
Garden  refers  to  "  a  little  black  fiye,"  now  called  "  the 
flea"  (Worcestershire  plural  "  flen "),  really  a  beetle 
like  the  "  turnip  fly,"  and  it  is  the  first  pest  that  attacks 
the  hop  every  year. 

"  First  the  flea,  then  the  fly. 
Then  the  lice,  and  then  they  die," 

is  a  couplet  repeated  in  all  the  hop  districts  to-day,  but 
the  damage  done  by  the  flea  is  not  to  be  compared  to 
that  caused  by  the  next  pest,  the  fly.  The  latter  is 
one  of  the  numerous  species  of  aphis  which  begins  its 
attack  in  the  winged  state,  and  after  producing  wingless 
green  lice  in  abundance — which  further  increase  by  the 


222  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


process  known  as  "  gemmation  " — reappears  with  wings 
in  the  final  generation  of  the  lice,  and  hibernates  in  readi- 
ness for  its  visitation  in  the  spring  next  year. 

So  long  as  the  hop  plant  maintains  its  health  the  aphis 
is  comparatively  harmless,  for  the  plant  is  then  able  to 
elaborate  to  the  full  the  bitter  principle  which  is  its 
natural  protection.  On  a  really  hot  day  in  July  it  is 
sometimes  possible  to  detect  the  distinctive  scent  of  the 
hop  quite  plainly  in  walking  through  the  plantation, 
long  before  any  hops  appear,  and  when  this  is  noticeable 
very  little  of  the  aphis  blight  can  be  found.  There  is 
however  nearly  always  a  small  sprinkling  lying  in  wait, 
and  a  few  days  of  unsuitable  weather  will  reduce  the 
vitality  of  the  plant  so  that  the  blight  immediately  begins 
to  increase. 

There  is  little  doubt  that  all  the  distinctive  principles 
of  plants  or  trees  have  been  evolved,  and  are  m  perfect 
health  elaborated,  as  a  protection  from  their  most  de- 
structive insect  or  fmigoid  enemies;  just  as  physical  pro- 
tective equipment,  such  as  thorns,  prickles,  and  stinging 
apparatus,  is  produced  by  other  plants  or  trees  as  safe- 
guards against  more  powerful  foes.  If  it  were  not  so, 
plants  that  are  even  now  seriously  damaged  and  kept  in 
check  by  such  pests  would  long  ago  have  become  extinct. 

Pursuing  this  theory  it  seems  likely  that  the  solanin 
of  the  potato  is  its  natural  protection  against  the  disease 
caused  by  the  fungus  Phytophthora  infestans.  The  idea  is 
suggested  by  the  invariably  increasing  liability  to  the 
potato  disease  experienced  as  new  sorts  become  old. 
The  new  kinds  of  potatoes  are  produced  from  the  seed — 
not  the  tubers — of  the  old  varieties,  and  the  seed,  when 
fully  vitalized  and  capable  of  germination,  may  be  assumed 
to  contain  the  maximum  potentiality  for  transmission 
of  the  active  principle  to  the  tubers  immediately  descended 
from  it.  During  the  early  years  of  their  existence  these 
revitalized  tubers  contain  so  much  solanin  that  they  are 
not  only  injurious,  but  more  or  less  poisonous,  to  man, 
and  it  is  only  after  they  have  been  cultivated,  and  have 


HOPS—INSECT  ATTACKS  223 

produced  further  generations  of  tubers  from  tubers,  that 
they  become  eatable,  showing  that  in  the  tuber  condition 
the  plant  gradually  loses  its  efficient  protection. 

In  the  case  of  the  hop  the  most  effective  remedy  is 
a  solution  of  quassia  and  soft  soap.  The  caustic  potash 
in  the  soap  neutralizes  the  oily  integument  of  the  lice 
and  dries  them  up,  but  the  quassia  supplies  a  bitter 
principle  not  unlike  that  of  the  hop,  though  without  its 
grateful  aroma,  which  acts  as  a  protection  in  the  absence 
of  the  bitter  of  the  hop  itself.  So  closely  does  the  hop 
bitter  resemble  that  of  quassia,  that  in  seasons  of  hop 
failure  it  is  said  to  be  employed  as  a  substitute  in 
brewing,  and  at  one  time  its  use  for  that  purpose  was 
prohibited  by  law. 

As  a  further  proof  that  the  bitter  principle  of  the  hop 
is  distasteful  to  the  aphis,  it  is  noticeable  that  when  the 
fly  first  arrives  it  always  attacks  the  topmost  shoots  of 
the  bine  where  the  leaves  have  not  developed,  and  where 
the  active  principle  is  likely  to  be  weakest.  The  same 
position  is  selected  by  the  aphis  of  the  rose,  the  bean,  and 
every  plant  or  tree  subject  to  aphis  attack — it  is  the 
undeveloped  and  therefore  unprotected  part  which  is 
chosen. 

It  is  remarkable  that  when  a  destructive  blight  is 
proceeding — generally  in  a  wet  and  cold  time— and  a 
sudden  change  occurs  to  really  hot  dry  weather,  the  hop 
plant  often  recovers  its  tone  automatically,  shakes  off  the 
disease,  and  the  blight  dies  away,  a  fact  which  strengthens 
the  assumption  that  in  normal  weather  the  plant  can 
protect  itself.  Again,  the  blight  is  always  most  persistent 
under  the  shade  of  trees  or  tall  hedges,  or  where  the  bine 
is  over  luxuriant,  when  owing  to  the  exclusion  of  light 
and  air  the  plant  is  unable  to  elaborate  its  natural  safe- 
guard. 

Fertilizers  not  well  balanced  as  to  their  constituents, 
and  containing  an  excess  of  nitrogen,  act  as  stimulants 
without  supplying  the  minerals  necessary  for  perfect 
health.     The   effect   is   the   same   as   that    produced   in 


224  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


man  by  an  excess  of  alcohol  and  a  dcjficicncy  of  nourishing 
food,  the  health  of  the  subject  suffers  in  both  cases, 
leaving  a  predisposition  to  disease. 

Reasoning  by  analogy,  these  causes  affecting  the 
success  or  failure  of  plants  give  us  the  clue  to  the  remedies 
for  bacterial  disease  in  man.  Disease  is  the  consequence 
and  penalty  of  life  under  unnatural  or  unfavourable 
conditions,  which  should  first  receive  attention  and 
improvement.  When  in  spite  of  improved  conditions 
disease  persists,  specifics  must  be  sought.  The  con- 
ditions which  produce  disease  in  the  vegetable  world 
are  fought  by  the  active  principle  of  each  plant,  and  inas- 
much as  the  germ  diseases  of  man  are  probably,  though 
distantly,  related  to  those  which  affect  vegetable  life,  the 
specific  protections  of  plants  should  be  exploited  for  the 
treatment  of  human  complaints.  This,  of  course,  has  for 
long  been  a  practice,  but  possibly  more  success  might  be 
achieved  by  careful  research  to  identify  each  distinct 
bacterial  disease  in  man  with  its  co-related  distinct  disease 
in  plants,  so  as  to  utilize  as  a  remedy  for  the  former  the 
natural  protection  which  the  latter  indicates. 

Our  artificially  evolved  domesticated  plants  are  more 
subject  to  disease  than  their  wild  prototypes,  because  they 
are  not  natural  survivals  of  the  fittest.  They  are  survivals 
only  by  virtue  of  the  art  of  man,  inducing  special  properties 
pleasing  to  man's  senses,  and  therefore  profitable  for  sale; 
but  in  the  development  of  some  such  special  excellence, 
ability  to  elaborate  protective  defence  is  generally  neg- 
lected, and  the  special  excellence  produced  may  possibly 
be  antagonistic  to  the  really  sound  constitution  of  the 
plant.  It  is  thus  that  cultivated  plants  are  more  in  need 
of  watchful  care  and  attention  than  their  wild  relations, 
and  that,  in  the  development  of  quality,  a  sacrifice  of 
quantity  may  be  involved. 

The  observant  hop  grower  notices  constant  changes 
in  the  appearance  of  his  plants  from  day  to  day  under 
varying  weather  influences  and  other  conditions ;  a  retarded 
and  unhappy  expression  in  a  cold,  wet  and  rough  time; 


HOPS  225 

an  eager  and  hopeful  expansiveness  under  genial  con- 
ditions; a  dark,  plethoric  and  rampant  groA\i;h  where  too 
much  nitrogen  is  available,  and  a  brilliant  and  healthily- 
restrained  normality  when  properly  balanced  nourishment 
is  provided. 

There  should  be  sympathy  between  the  grower  and 
his  plants,  such  as  is  described  by  Blackmore  in  his 
Christowell ;  though  in  the  following  passage  with  con- 
summate art  he  puts  the  words  into  the  mouth  of  the 
sympathetic  daughter  of  the  amateur  vine-grower,  and 
gives  the  plant  the  credit  of  the  first  advance : 

"'For  people  to  talk  about  "sensitive  plants,"*  she 
says,  *  does  seem  such  sad  nonsense,  when  every  plant 
that  lives  is  sensitive.  Just  look  at  this  holly-leafed 
baby  vine,  with  every  point  cut  like  a  prickle,  yet  much 
too  tender  and  good  to  prick  me.  It  follows  every 
motion  of  my  hand;  it  crisps  its  little  veinings  up  when- 
ever I  come  near  it;  and  it  feels  in  every  fibre  that  I  am 
looking  at  it.' " 

Blackmore  was  much  more  than  a  writer  of  fiction; 
I  think  he  had  a  deeper  insight  into  the  spirit  of  Nature 
and  country  character  than  perhaps  any  writer  of 
modern  times;  he  combined  the  accuracy  of  the  scholar 
with  the  practical  knowledge  of  the  farmer  and  gardener; 
the  logic  of  the  philosopher  with  the  fancy  and  ex- 
pression of  the  poet.  I  regard  the  appreciation  of  his 
Lorna  Doone — a  book  in  which  one  can  smell  the  violets 
— as  the  test  of  a  real  country  lover;  I  mean  a  country 
lover  who,  besides  the  gift  of  acute  observation,  has  the 
deeper  gift  of  imaginative  perception.  If  only  the  book 
could  have  been  illustrated  by  the  pencil  of  Randolph 
Caldecott,  such  a  union  of  sympathy  between  author  and 
artist  would  have  produced  a  work  unparalleled  in  rural 
literature. 

Like  all  insects  the  aphis  has  its  special  insect  enemies, 
among  which  the  lady-bird  ("  lady-cow  "  in  Worcester- 
shire) is  the  most  important.  It  lays  its  eggs  in  clusters 
on  the  hop-leaf,  and   in   a   few  days  the  larvae   (called 

15 


226  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

"  niggers ")  are  hatched,  aggressive-looking  creatures 
with  insatiable  appetites.  It  is  amusing  to  watch  them 
hunting  over  the  lower  side  of  the  leaf  like  a  sporting 
dog  in  a  turnip  field,  and  devouring  the  lice  in  quantities. 
I  knew  an  old  hop  grower  in  Hampshire  who  had  a 
standing  offer  of  a  guinea  a  quart  for  lady-birds,  but  it  is 
scarcely  necessary  to  add  that  the  reward  was  never 
claimed. 

The  hop  is  dioecious  (producing  male  and  female 
blossoms  on  separate  plants),  but  very  rarely  both  can 
be  found  on  the  same  stem — the  plant  thus  becoming 
monoecious.  In  1893,  a  very  hot  dry  year,  several 
specimens  were  found,  including  one  in  Kent,  one  in 
Surrey,  one  in  Herefordshire,  and  one  in  my  own  hop- 
yards  at  Aldington.  It  is  curious  that  the  same  unusual 
season  should  have  produced  the  same  abnormality  in 
places  so  far  apart,  practically  representing  all  the  hop 
districts  of  the  country. 

"  Till  James's  Day  be  past  and  gone, 
You  might  grow  hops  or  you  might  grow  none." 

St.  James's  Day  is  July  25,  and  so  uncertain  was 
the  crop  in  the  days  before  insecticides  were  in  use, 
that  the  saying  fairly  represents  the  specially  speculative 
nature  of  the  crop  in  former  times.  As  an  instance  of 
the  effects  of  varying  years  I  had  the  uncommon  experience 
of  picking  two  crops  in  twelve  months:  the  first  in  a 
very  late  season  when  the  picking  did  not  commence 
till  after  Worcester  hop-fair  day,  September  19th,  and 
the  second  the  following  year  when  picking  was  unusually 
early,  and  was  completed  before  the  fair  day.  At 
Farnham,  where  many  of  the  tradespeople  indulged 
in  a  little  annual  flutter  as  small  hop  growers,  in 
addition  to  a  more  regular  source  of  income  from  their 
respective  trades,  it  was  said  that  the  first  question  on 
meeting  each  other  was  not,  "  How  are  you  ?"  but  "  How 
are  they .?" 

Hop-picking   is   always   somewhat   reminiscent   of  the 


HOPS  227 

Saturnalia;  with  hundreds  of  strangers  from  distant 
villages  and  a  few  gipsies  and  tramps,  it  is  not  possible 
to  enforce  strict  discipline,  for  it  is  very  necessary  to  keep 
the  people  in  good-humour.  On  the  final  day  of  the 
picking  they  expect  to  be  allowed  to  indulge  in  a  good 
deal  of  horse-play,  the  great  joke  being  suddenly  to  upset 
an  unpopular  individual  into  a  crib  among  the  hops. 
Shrieks  of  laughter  greet  the  disappearance  of  the  unlucky 
one,  of  whom  nothing  is  to  be  seen  except  a  struggling 
leg  protruding  from  the  crib. 

The  last  operation  in  the  hop  garden  is  stacking  the 
poles,  and  burning  the  bine,  a  most  inflammable  material 
which  makes  a  prodigious  blaze.  As  the  men  watch 
the  leaping  flames  the  same  remark  is  made  year  after 
year — "  fire  is  a  good  servant,  but  a  bad  master."  These 
fires  seem  a  great  waste  of  good  fibrous  matter,  as  in 
former  times  the  bine  was  utilized  for  making  coarse 
sacking  and  brown  paper.  During  the  war  I  suggested 
to  the  National  Salvage  Council  that,  owing  to  the  scarcity 
of  both  these  articles,  it  might  be  worth  while  to  attempt 
the  resuscitation  of  the  manufacture.  The  suggestion  was 
followed  by  experiments  which  produced  quite  a  useful 
brown  paper  of  which  I  received  a  sample,  but  the  cost 
of  treatment  was  unfortunately  prohibitive  from  the 
commercial  point  of  view. 

Worcester  hop  fair  is  the  start  of  the  trade,  and  the 
market  is  held  behind  the  Hop-Pole  Hotel,  where  there 
are  spacious  stores  and  offices  for  the  merchants.  When 
the  crop  is  bountiful  the  stores  are  filled  to  overflowing, 
and  the  ancient  Guildhall  built  in  1721  has  to  be 
requisitioned.  On  either  side  of  the  doorway  stand  the 
statues  of  Carolus  I.  and  Carolus  II.,  who  must  have 
watched  the  entrance  and  the  exit  of  innumerable  pockets. 
Worcester  is  distinguished  as  the  Faithful  City,  for  like  the 
County  it  had  small  use  for  Cromwell  and  his  Round- 
heads ;  and  to  this  day,  on  the  date  of  the  restoration  of 
Charles  II. — *'  the  twenty-ninth  of  May,  oak  apple  day  " — 
a  spray  of  oak  or  an  oak-apple  is  in  some  villages  worn  as  a 


228  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


badj]fe  of  loyalty,  the  penalty  for  non-observance  being  a 
stroke  on  the  hands  with  a  stinging-nettle. 

It  was  a  great  relief  to  get  away  from  my  800  pickers 
and  ride  the  eighteen  miles  to  Worcester  on  my  bicycle, 
through  the  lovely  river  scenery  of  the  Vale  of  Evesham, 
the  hedges  drooping  beneath  the  weight  of  brilliant  berries, 
the  orchards  loaded  with  apples,  the  clean  bright  stubbles, 
and  the  cattle  in  the  lush  aftermath;  then,  after  a  visit 
to  the  busy  hop-market  and  a  stroll  among  the  curio 
shops  in  New  Street,  to  return  by  a  different  road  as  the 
shadows  were  lengthening  beside  the  copses  and  the 
hedgerow  timber  trees. 

In  former  times  the  October  fair  at  Weyhill,  near 
Andover,  was  the  market  for  the  Hampshire  and  Farnham 
hops;  it  was  the  custom  for  the  growers  to  send  them  by 
road,  and  load  back  with  cheese  brought  to  the  fair  by 
the  Wiltshire  farmers.  I  heard  of  a  Hampshire  grower, 
who  in  a  year  of  great  scarcity  had  spent  some  time 
trying  to  sell  several  pockets  to  an  anxious  but  reluctant 
buyer,  unwdlling  to  give  the  price  asked — £20  a  hundred- 
weight. They  continued  the  deal  in  the  evening  at  the  inn  at 
Andover,  where  both  were  staying,  and  said  "  Good-night  " 
without  having  concluded  the  bargain.  The  grower  was 
in  bed  and  almost  asleep  when  he  heard  a  knock  at  his 
door,  and  a  voice,  "  Give  you  £18,"  which  he  refused. 
Next  morning  trade  was  dull  and  the  buyer  would  not 
repeat  his  offer,  and  at  the  end  of  the  week  the  grower 
sent  his  hops  home  again.  Prices  continued  to  fall,  until  two 
years  later  he  sold  the  same  lot  at  5s.  a  hundredweight 
to  a  cunning  speculator,  who  took  them  out  to  sea,  after 
claiming  a  return  of  the  duty  (about  £l  a  hundredweight 
originally  paid  by  the  grower),  which  the  Excise  refunded 
on  exported  hops.  The  hops  went  overboard  of  course, 
and  the  buyer  netted  the  difference  between  the  price 
he  paid  and  the  amount  received  for  the  refunded  duty. 

At  these  old  fairs  the  showmen  and  gipsies  take  large 
sums  in  the  "  pleasure "  departments  for  admission 
to     their     exhibitions — swings,     roundabouts,     shooting- 


HOP  FAIRS  229 


galleries,  and  coco-nut  shies.  In  Evesham  Post-Office 
a  gipsy  woman  once  asked  me  to  write  a  letter;  she 
handed  me  an  order  for  £lO,  and  instructed  me  to  send 
it  to  a  London  firm  for  £5  worth  of  best  coco-nuts  and 
£5  worth  of  seconds.  They  were  for  use  on  the  shies  ; 
it  struck  me  as  a  large  supply,  and  the  economical  division 
of  the  qualities  as  ingenious. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

METEOROLOGY— ETON  AND  HARROW  AT  LORD'S—"  UUS 
IN  URBE" 

"  But  if  I  praised  the  busy  town, 
He  loved  to  rail  against  it  still, 
For  '  ground  in  yonder  social  mill 
We  rub  each  other's  angles  down, 

"'  And  merge,'  he  said,  '  in  form  and  gloss 
The  picturesque  of  man  and  man.'  " 

In  Memoriam. 

During  the  terribly  wet  summer  of  1879  the  following 
lines  were  written — it  was  said  by  the  then  Bishop  of 
Wakefield — in  the  visitors'  book  at  the  White  Lion  Hotel 
at  Bala,  in  Wales: 

"  The  weather  depends  on  the  moon,  as  a  rule, 
And  I've  found  that  the  saying  is  true; 
For  at  Bala  it  rains  when  the  moon's  at  the  full. 
And  it  rains  when  the  moon's  at  the  new. 

"  When  the  moon's  at  the  quarter,  then  down  comes  the  rain; 
At  the  half  it's  no  better  I  ween; 
When  the  moon's  at  three-quarters  it's  at  it  again, 
And  it  rains  besides  mostly  between." 

Rather  hard  on  Bala,  for  the  summer  was  so  abnor- 
mally wet  that  these  lines  would  have  been  true  of 
any  part  of  England.  I  suppose  everybody  is  more  or 
less  interested  in  the  weather,  but  the  custom  of  alluding 
to  the  obvious,  as  an  opening  to  conversation,  is  probably 
a  survival  from  the  time  when  everyone  was  directly 
interested  in  its  effect  upon  agriculture. 

Nothing  proves  how  completely  town  interests  now 
dominate  those  of  the  country  so  much  as  the  innovation 
called  "  summer  time."  During  the  war  it  was  no  doubt 
a  boon  to  allotment   holders,  and   of  course   it   gives  a 

230 


METEOROLOGY  231 


longer  evening  to  those  employed  all  day  indoors;  but  it 
inflicts  direct  loss  on  the  farmer,  who  is  practically  forced 
to  adopt  it  in  order  to  supply  the  towns  with  produce 
in  time  for  their  altered  habits.     The  farmer  exchanges 
the  last  hour  of  the  normal  day,  one  of  the  most  valuable 
in  the  old  working  time,  for  the  first  hour  of  the  new  day, 
one  of  the  most  useless,  for  owing  to  the  dew  which  the 
sun  has  not  had  time  to  dry  up,  many  agricultural  opera- 
tions cannot  be  properly  performed  or  even  commenced — 
hay-making  and  corn-hoeing  for  instance  are  impossible. 
We  may  be  sure  that  the  former  times  of  beginning  and 
ending  farm-work,  which  I  suppose  had  been  customary 
for  at  least  2,000  years  in  England,  did  not  receive  the 
sanction  of  such  a  period  without    good  reason,  and   it 
seems  to  me,  that  so  far   as  outdoor  work  is  concerned 
the  new  arrangement  savours  of  "  teaching  our  grand- 
mothers to  suck  eggs." 

There  is  a  saving  of  lighting  requirements,  no  doubt, 
but  in  such  a  six  weeks  of  winterly  mornings  as  we  had, 
following  the  commencement  of  "summer  time"  this 
first  year  of  peace,  there  is  a  considerable  increase  in  the 
consumption  of  fuel.  Wherever  possible,  I  suppose,  most 
houses  are  built  to  face  the  south,  and  the  breakfast-room 
would  be  generally  on  that  side,  so  that  by  9  o'clock, 
old  time,  the  sun  had  warmed  the  room,  but  at  9  o'clock, 
new  time,  the  sun  has  scarcely  looked  in  at  the  window; 
a  fire  is  probably  lighted  and  to  save  trouble  kept  up  all 
day.  If  the  new  arrangement  is  continued,  and  I  under- 
stand that  it  was  tried  more  than  100  years  ago  and 
abandoned  as  a  mistake,  it  would  be  much  better  to 
begin  it  at  least  a  month  later.  Our  present  May  Day 
is  nearly  a  fortnight  earlier  than  before  the  New  Style 
was  introduced,  which  is  the  reason  why  old  traditions  of 
May  Day  merry-makings  appear  unseasonable ;  and  probably 
the  promoters  of  summer  time  have  not  heard  of  "  black- 
thorn winter  "  and  "  whitethorn  winter,"  which,  in  the 
coimtry,  we  experience  regularly  every  year  in  April  and 
May. 


232  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


and 


"  When  the  grass  grows  in  Janivcer 
It  grows  the  worse  for  it  all  the  year," 

"  If  Candlemas-Day  be  6ne  and  fair 
The  half  of  winter's  to  come  and  mair; 
If  Candlemas-Day  be  wet  and  foul 
The  half  of  winter  was  gone  at  Yule," 

are  both  rhymes  suggesting  the  probabiHty  of  wintry 
weather  to  follow,  if  the  early  weeks  of  the  year  are  mild 
and  unseasonable,  and  they  may  be  considered  as  generally 
correct  prognostications.  A  neighbouring  village  had 
the  distinction  of  possessing  a  weather  prophet,  with  the 
reputation  also  of  an  astrologer;  he  could  be  seen  when 
the  stars  were  gleaming  brightly,  late  at  night,  gazing 
upwards  and  making  his  deductions,  though,  in  reality, 
I  fancy,  his  inspiration  came  from  the  study  of  almanacs 
which  profess  to  foretell  the  future.  He  was  quiet  and 
reserved,  with  a  spare  figure,  dark  complexion,  and  an 
abstracted  expression.  Occasionally  I  could  induce  him 
to  talk,  but  he  did  not  like  to  be  "  drawn."  He  told  me, 
as  one  of  his  original  conceptions,  that  he  thought  the 
good  people  were  accommodated  in  the  after-life  within 
the  limits  of  the  stars  of  good  influence,  and  that  the 
wicked  had  to  be  content  with  those  of  an  opposite 
character. 

The  proverb  about  March  dust,  and  "  A  dry  March 
and  a  dry  May  for  old  England,"  are  both  apposite,  for 
they  are  busy  months  on  the  land,  and  a  wet  March 
amounts  to  a  national  disaster;  but  everyone  forgives 
April  when  showery,  for  we  all  know  that  "  April  showers 
bring  forth  May  flowers."     Shakespeare,  too,  says: 

"  When  daffodils  begin  to  peer, 

With  heigh  !  the  doxy  over  the  dale, 
Why,  then  comes  in  the  sweet  of  the  year." 

A  charming  sentiment  and  charmingly  rendered,  but 
possibly  more  accurate  when  the  Old  Style  was  in  vogue, 
and  the  seasons  were  nearly  a  fortnight  later  than  now. 


METEOROLOGY  233 


The  modern  "  daffys  "  too,  no  doubt,  "  begin  to  peer  " 
somewhat  earlier  than  those  of  the  reign  of  Queen 
Ehzabeth. 

During  a  very  hot  summer  I  suggested  to  the  Board  of 
Agriculture  that  it  might  be  worth  while  to  experiment 
with  explosions  of  artillery,  with  a  view  of  inducing  the 
clouds  to  discharge  the  rain  they  evidently  contain  when 
they  keep  passing  day  after  day  without  bursting.  I  had 
seen  it  stated  that  many  great  battles  had  ended  in 
tremendous  downpours,  and  that  it  was  believed  that  the 
rain  was  caused  by  concussion  from  the  explosions. 
The  Board  replied,  however,  that  experiments  had  been 
conducted  in  America  for  the  purpose,  without  in  any 
way  substantiating  the  theory;  and  the  experiences  of  the 
Great  War  have  since  conclusively  proved  that  it  has 
no  foundation. 

As  to  weather  signs,  I  have  already  quoted  the  original 
pronouncement  of  my  carpenter,  T.  G.,  that  "  the  in- 
dications for  rain  are  very  similar  to  the  indications  for 
fine  weather,"  and  there  is  a  good  deal  in  his  words. 
My  own  conclusion,  after  fifty  years  of  out-door  life  on  the 
farm,  in  the  woods,  in  the  garden,  at  out-door  games,  and 
on  the  roads,  is  that  fine  weather  brings  fine  weather,  and 
wet  weather  brings  wet  weather,  in  other  words,  it  never 
rains  but  it  pours,  in  an  extended  sense. 

My  impression  is  that  when  the  ground  is  dry  there 
is  a  minimum  of  capillary  attraction  between  it  and 
the  clouds,  and  though  the  sky  may  look  threatening 
they  do  not  easily  break  into  rain.  On  the  other  hand, 
when  the  ground  is  thoroughly  wet  and  evaporation  is 
active,  capillary  attraction  tends  to  unite  earth  and  clouds, 
and  rain  results.  We  all  know  that  hill-tops  receive 
showers  which  frequently  pass  over  the  vales  without 
falling,  probably  because  of  the  greater  proximity  of  the 
hills.  In  a  long  drought  a  violent  thunderstorm,  which 
soaks  the  ground,  will  often  be  followed  by  a  complete 
change  of  weather,  as  the  result  of  contact  established 
between  the  earth  and  the  clouds. 


234  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


The  best  description  I  know  of  a  really  hot  and  cloudless 
day  is  that  by  Coleridge  in  the  Ancient  Mariner : 

"  The  sun  came  up  upon  the  left, 
Out  of  the  sea  came  he; 
And  he  shone  bright,  and  on  the  right 
Went  down  into  the  sea." 

The  succession  of  monosyllables  expresses  most  forcibly 
the  monotony  of  a  day  of  blazing  sunshine,  unruffled  by 
a  cloud;  and  the  absence  of  incident  illustrates  the  re- 
morseless march  of  the  dominant  sun  across  the  heavens. 

Very  little  of  my  time  has  been  spent  in  London  or  any 
other  town,  and  my  early  recollections  of  passing  through 
London  on  my  way  to  or  from  school  after  or  before  the 
holidays  are  of  very  depressing  weather  conditions — fog, 
greasy  streets  and  pavements,  or  a  sun  veiled  in  a  haze 
of  smoky  vapour.  Even  when  I  went  to  Lord's  annually 
in  July  to  see  the  Eton  and  Harrow  match  my  recol- 
lection of  the  weather  is  of  dull,  sultry  heat  and  oppression 
of  spirits.  Cricket  never  seemed  the  same  game  as  I  knew 
and  loved  at  Harrow,  or  in  my  own  home  in  Surrey; 
there  was  an  unreality  about  it,  and  a  black  coat  and 
top  hat  were  insufferably  uncongenial. 

I  am  able,  as  an  eye-witness  on  one  of  these  occasions, 
to  write  of  an  incident  which,  I  think,  has  been  almost 
forgotten.  It  was  within  a  year  of  the  marriage 
of  King  Edward,  then  Prince  of  Wales,  and  Queen 
Alexandra.  A  ball  had  been  hit  almost  to  the  boundary, 
but  was  stopped  by  a  spectator  close  to  the  ropes,  thrown 
in  to  the  fielder,  and  smartly  returned  to  the  wicket- 
keeper.  The  batsmen  took  it  for  granted  that  it  was  a 
boundary  hit,  and  were  changing  ends  when,  one  man 
being  out  of  his  ground,  the  wicket  was  put  down,  the 
wicket-keeper  not  recognizing  that  the  ball  was  "  dead." 
The  umpire  gave  the  man  "  out."  The  man  demurred, 
and  immediately  shouts  arose  on  all  sides:  "Out!"  "Not 
out !"  "  Out  !"  "  Not  out !"  "  Out !"  "  Not  out !"  rising 
in  crescendo  to  a  pitch  of  intense  excitement.     The  boys 


ETON  AND  HARROW  AT  LORD'S  285 

watching   the    match,    and    the    other    spectators,    some 
agreeing  with,  and   some  disputing    the  verdict,  rushed 
into  the  centre  of  the  ground,  and  completely  blocked 
the  open  space  still  shouting  vociferously.      When  the 
turmoil  was  at  its  height  the  carriage  of  the  Prince  and 
Princess  was  driven  on  to  the  ground;  one  of  the  players 
rushed   up   excitedly,    and   asked   the   Prince   to   decide 
the    matter.     The    Prince    had    not    seen    the    incident, 
and  of  course  declined,  as  no  doubt  he  would  have  done 
under  any  circumstances,   to  give  an  opinion.     It   was 
impossible  to  clear  the  ground  and  continue  the  play 
that  evening,  and  stumps  were  drawn  for  the  day.     Next 
morning  the  fielding  side  offered  the  disgusted  batsman 
to  continue  his  innings,  but  he  decided  to  play  the  game 
and  abide  by  the  umpire's  decision.     I  forget  whether 
Eton  or  Harrow  was  in  the  field  at  the  time,  and  after 
this  lapse  of  years  it  does  not   matter.     The  headmaster 
always  sent  a  notice  round,  just  before  the  match,  to  be 
read  to  every  form,  that  the  boys  were  desired  not  to 
indulge  in  any  "  ironical  cheering  "  at  Lord's;  this  was 
his  euphemism  for  what  we  called  *'  chaff,"  and  I  fear 
that  on  this  occasion  the  warning  was  disregarded  even 
more  completely  than  usual. 

As  a  child,  I  generally  paid  a  visit  to  London  with 
my  brothers  and  sisters  during  the  Christmas  holidays  to 
see  a  pantomime,  and  I  remember  an  occasion  when 
returning  from  Covent  Garden  Theatre  after  a  matinee 
we  all — nine  of  us — walked  over  Waterloo  Bridge  and 
paid  nine  halfpennies  toll — a  circumstance  that  had 
never  happened  before,  and  never  happened  again. 

In  the  days  before  the  railway  was  made  between  Alton 
and  Farnham  the  old  bailiff  on  the  Will  Hall  Farm  at 
Alton,  who,  though  quite  an  elderly  man,  had  never  visited 
London,  expressed  a  wish  to  visit  it  for  once  in  his  life. 
His  master  gave  him  a  holiday  and  paid  his  expenses, 
and  the  old  man  drove  the  ten  miles  to  Farnham  Station. 
Arrived  in  London  he  started  to  walk  over  Waterloo  Bridge, 
but  the  further  he  got  the  more  astonished  he  became  at 


286  AISI  ENGLISH  MANOR 


the  traffic,  and  began  to  wonder  what  "  fair  "  all  the  people 
could  be  going  to.  Feeling  very  much  out  of  his  element 
he  reached  the  Strand,  and  looking  up  and  down  he  saw 
still  greater  crowds  of  passengers  and  the  unending  pro- 
cession of  'buses,  cabs,  and  vans.  He  became  so  confused 
and  alarmed  that  he  turned  round,  went  straight  back  to 
Waterloo  Station,  and  left  by  the  first  available  train. 
He  came  home  disgusted  with  London,  and  in  an 
account  of  the  traffic  and  the  people,  ended  by  saying, 
"  I  never  saw  such  a  place  in  my  life;  I  couldn't  even 
get  a  bit  of  anything  to  eat  until  I  got  back  to  Farnham." 

This  old  man  was  called  "  the  Great  Western  " :  I  suppose 
his  bulk  and  commanding  figure  were  reminiscent  of 
the  power  and  energy  of  one  of  the  locomotives  on  that 
line.  He  wore  a  very  wide-brimmed  straw  hat,  and  a 
vast  expanse  of  waistcoat  with  sleeves,  without  a  coat 
over  it,  and  he  had  a  very  determined  and  masterful 
habit  of  speech.  Caldecott's  sketch  of  Ready-Money 
Jack  in  Bracebridge  Hall  always  recalls  him  to  my  mind. 

He  must  have  been  born  before  the  opening  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  for  he  could  remember  the  stirring  events 
of  its  early  years.  Any  remark  about  unusual  weather 
made  in  his  hearing  was  at  once  put  out  of  court  by  his 
recollections  of  "  eiteen-eiteen  "  (1818),  which  seems  to 
have  been  a  very  remarkable  year  for  maxima  and 
minima  of  meteorology.  He  could  remember  the  high 
price  of  wheat  during  the  war  which  ended  at  Waterloo, 
and  how  his  old  master,  the  grandfather  of  the  tenant  of 
the  farm  in  my  time,  would  stand  by  the  men  in  the  barn 
as  they  measured  up  the  wheat,  bushel  by  bushel,  to 
fill  the  sacks,  and  exclaim  as  each  bushel  was  poured  in, 
"  There  goes  another  guinea,  boys  !"  This  would  make 
the  price  168s.  a  quarter;  I  find  the  average  recorded  for 
1812  was  126s.  6d.,  so  that  it  is  quite  possible  that  for 
a  time  in  that  year  in  places  168s.  was  realized;  which 
leaves  us  little  to  grumble  at  in  the  price  of  80s.  during 
the  greatest  war  in  history. 

His  horizon  must  have  been  considerably  widened  by 


'RUS  IN  URBE''  287 


his  brief  visit  to  London ;  previous  to  that  event  it  might 
have  been  nearly  as  extensive  as  that  of  the  hero  of  a 
recent  story  of  Pwllheli.  Meeting  a  crony  in  the 
town,  he  remarked  that  the  streets  of  London  would 
be  pretty  crowded  that  day.  "  How's  that  ?"  said  his 
friend.  "  Why,  there's  a  trip  train  gone  up  to-day  with 
fourteen  people  from  Pwllheli  !" 

Bredon  Hill,  in  the  Vale  of  Evesham,  is  the  direction 
in  which  many  people  look  for  hints  of  coming  changes  of 
weather. 

"  When  Bredon  Hill  puts  on  his  cap 
Ye  men  of  the  vale  beware  of  that  " 

is  a  well-known  proverb  referring  to  the  dark  curtain  of 
rain  clouds  obscuring  the  top,  which  is  generally  followed 
by  heavy  rain  and  floods  in  the  Avon  meadows  and 
those  of  all  the  little  streams  which  join  that  river.  The 
same  purple  curtain  can  be  seen  on  the  Cotswolds  above 
Broadway,  and  is  likewise  the  forerimner  of  floods  in 
the  Vale: 

"  When  you  see  the  rain  on  the  hills 

You'll  shortly  find  it  down  by  the  mills." 

There  is,  too,  the  beautiful  blue  hazy  distance  one  sees 
in  very  fine  weather,  which  gives  a  feeling  of  mystery  and 
remoteness  and  unexplored  possibilities.  I  lately  read 
somewhere  of  a  man  who  had  passed  his  life  without 
leaving  his  native  village,  though  he  had  often  looked 
far  away  into  the  blue  distance,  and  longed  to  start  upon 
a  journey  of  discovery;  for  its  invitation  seemed  an 
assurance  that  in  such  beauty  there  must  be  something 
better  than  he  had  ever  experienced  in  his  own  home. 
There  came  a  day  when  the  appeal  was  so  insistent  that 
he  braced  himself  to  the  effort,  and  after  many  weary 
miles  reached  the  place  of  his  dreams,  only  to  find  that 
the  blue  distance  had  disappeared.  Meeting  a  passer-by 
he  told  him  of  his  journey  and  its  object,  and  of  his 
disappointment,  "  Look  behind  you,"  was  the  reply.  He 
looked,  and  behold  !  over  the  very  spot  he  had  left  in  the 


238  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

morning — over  his  own  home — the  blue  haze  hung,  as 
a  veil  of  beauty,  with  its  exquisite  promise.  There  is 
a  moral  and  there  is  comfort  in  this  tale  for  him  who 
fancies  that  he  is  the  victim  of  circumstances  and  sur- 
roundings. That  is  the  man  who,  as  my  bailiff  used  to 
say  in  harvest,  has  always  got  a  heavier  cut  of  wheat 
than  his  neighbour  in  the  same  field,  and  is  always  finding 
himself  "  at  the  wrong  job." 


CHAPTER  XX 

CHANGING  COURSE  OF  STREAMS  — DEWPONDS  — A  WET 
HARVEST— WEATHER  PHENOMENA— WILL-O'-THE-WISP- 
VARIOUS 

"  There  rolls  the  deep  where  grew  the  tree. 
O  Earth,  what  changes  hast  thou  seen  !" 

In  Memoriam. 

"  With  many  a  curve  my  banks  I  fret 
By  many  a  field  and  fallow, 
And  many  a  fairy  foreland  set 
With  willow-weed  and  mallow. 

"  I  chatter,  chatter,  as  I  flow 
To  join  the  brimming  river, 
For  men  may  come  and  men  may  go. 
But  I  go  on  for  ever." 

The  Brook. 

Living  so  many  years  in  one  place  I  had  unusual  oppor- 
tunities, as  my  rounds  nearly  always  took  me  beside 
my  brooks,  of  watching  their  slowly  changing  courses. 
The  roots  of  the  pollard  willows  helped  to  keep  them 
to  their  regular  path  by  holding  up  the  banks,  but  some- 
times when  an  old  tree  fell  into  the  water  it  had  an 
opposite  result.  A  fallen  tree,  reaching  partly  across  the 
stream,  has  the  immediate  effect  of  damming  the  flow 
of  the  water  on  the  side  of  its  growth  and  diverting  the 
current  towards  the  opposite  bank  in  a  narrowed  but  more 
powerful  advance,  so  that  the  bank  is  worn  away  and  the 
begimiing  of  a  bend  is  formed.  As  the  breach  increases, 
the  water,  momentarily  retarded  there  by  the  new  con- 
cavity, rushes  forward  again  in  the  direction  of  the  bank 
from  which  the  tree  fell.  So  that  a  second  concavity  is 
produced  on  that  side  some  little  way  below  the  tree, 
resulting  in  the  slow  formation  of  an  extended  S-like 
figure,  or  hook  with  a  double  bend.     The  collection  of 

239 


240  AlSl  ENGLISH  MANOR 


rubbish  and  sediment  retained  by  the  fallen  tree  helps 
to  form  a  new  bank  on  that  side,  extending  further  into 
the  stream  than  the  bank  on  which  the  tree  originally 
stood. 

As  this  process  continues  it  is  easy  to  see  that  a  straight 
stretch  of  stream  will  in  time  assume  a  winding  course, 
and  the  stream  will  be  continually  altering  its  path,  so 
that  large  areas  of  flat  meadows  will  be  formed,  every" 
part  of  which  has  at  times  been  the  stream's  course. 
How  many  ages,  then,  must  it  have  taken  to  produce  the 
level  meadows  we  see  extending  for  immense  distances  on 
either  side  of  our  big  rivers,  and  even  those  adjoining  quite 
small  streams  ?  The  level  surface  thus  created  by  the 
river  or  brook's  course  perpetually  deflected  and  reflected, 
is  finally  completed  by  the  floods  bringing  down  a  deposit 
of  soil  in  solution,  which  is  precipitated  and  settles  into 
any  surface  irregularities  left  by  the  wanderings  of  the 
stream.  A  faint  conception  of  an  absolutely  illimitable 
cycle  of  years,  during  wliich  the  whole  extent  of  visible 
flat  meadow  has  been  again  and  again  eroded  and  restored, 
is  thus  conveyed. 

Confirmation  of  this  alteration  of  their  courses  by  streams 
is  afforded  when  we  cut  a  main  drain  through  one  of  these 
meadows,  to  carry  the  water  from  the  connected  furrow 
drains  of  adjoining  arable  land.  The  alluvial  soil  can  be 
found  as  deep  as  the  depth  of  the  present  brook,  free  from 
the  stones  found  in  the  arable  land,  and  containing,  to  the 
same  depth  as  the  brook,  fresh  water  shells  similar  to 
those  in  the  brook  to-day.  There  was  a  bend  in  course 
of  formation  in  one  of  my  brooks,  where  the  stump  of  a 
tree,  whose  fall  was  the  starting-point,  could  be  seen 
standing  in  the  newly-formed  ground,  a  yard  or  more 
from  the  stream  when  I  left,  though  I  can  remember  when 
it  was  so  near  as  almost  to  touch  the  water. 

If  we  form  an  S  from  a  piece  of  wire,  and  pinch  it 
together  from  top  to  bottom,  the  loops  become  so  flattened, 
S,  that  one  of  them  may  almost  unite  with  the  central 
curve.     The  same  thing  often  happens  in  the  loops  of  a 


CHANGING  COURSE  OF  STREAMS  241 


brook,  and,  in  time,  the  stream  will  complete  the  junction, 
forming  a  short  circuit.^  Thus  an  island  may  be  formed; 
or  when  the  old  loop  opposite  the  short  circuit  gets  filled 
up  with  deposit  or  falling  banks — the  water  preferring  the 
short  circuit — a  piece  of  land  may  be  cut  off  from  one  of 
the  former  sides  of  the  brook  and  transferred  to  the  other, 
so  that  where  the  brook  is  a  boundary  between  two  owners 
or  parishes  one  owner  or  parish  may  be  robbed  and  the 
other  owner  or  parish  becomes  a  receiver  of  stolen  goods. 
There  was  an  instance  of  this  on  the  farm  I  owned  and 
occupied  adjoining  the  Aldington  Manor  property,  and  the 
owner  and  the  tenant  of  the  piece  transferred  to  my  side 
could  not  reach  it  without  walking  through  the  brook.  In 
this  case,  however,  the  tenant  had  wisely  planted  the  ground 
with  withies,  which  he  managed  to  get  at  for  lopping  when 
its  turn  came  round  every  seven  years.  Thus  we  have  an 
example  of  the  necessity  of  the  ancient  practice  of  beating 
the  bounds,  which,  at  least  before  the  days  of  ordnance 
surveys,  was  not  merely  an  opportunity  for  a  holiday. 

Another  proof  of  the  creation  of  new  land  by  the 
meanderings  of  a  stream  is  found  in  the  ancient  "  carrs  " 
of  North  Lincolnshire,  near  Brigg,  where  the  hoUowed-out 
logs  of  black  bog  oak,  which  formed  the  canoes  of  the 
ancient  inhabitants,  are  sometimes  discovered  many 
feet  below  the  surface,  and  long  distances  from  the  present 
course  of  the  Ancholme.  These  having  sunk  to  the  bottom 
of  the  river  in  past  ages,  and  gradually  become  covered  with 
alluvium,  were  left  behind  as  the  river  changed  its  course. 
In  some  cases  however  these  canoes  may  have  sunk  to  the 
bottom  of  the  water  when  it  formed  a  lake,  and  the  lake 
having  gradually  silted  up,  the  river  receded  to  something 
like  its  present  width. 

The  floods  in  the  Vale  of  Evesham  from  the  Avon  and 
even  from  my  brooks,  often  converted  the  adjoining  flat 
meadows  into  lakes,  and  they  rose  so  suddenly  after 
heavy  rains  or  the  melting  of  deep  snowfalls  on  the 
hills,  that  they  were  attended  with  danger  to  the  stock. 

See  note  at  end  of  chapter,  p.  252. 

16 


242  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


In  the  summer  of  1879  one  of  these  sudden  floods  occurred, 
and  people  standing  on  Evesham  bridge,  saw  fallen 
trees  and  hay-cocks  floating  down  the  stream.  A  pollard 
willow  was  noticed  with  a  crew  of  about  twenty  land  rats, 
which  had  found  refuge  there  until  the  tree  itself  was  lifted 
by  the  rising  water  and  carried  down  the  stream;  and  a 
floating  hay-cock  supported  a  man's  jacket,  his  jar  of  cider, 
and  his  "  shuppick."  The  local  word  "  shuppick,"  a  cor- 
ruption of  "  sheaf-pike,"  means  a  pike  used  for  loading  the 
sheaves  of  wheat  in  the  harvest  field  on  to  the  waggon,  and 
is  the  "  fork  "in  general  use  at  hay-making.  During  another 
summer  flood  the  whole  of  the  pleasure  ground  at  Evesham, 
beside  the  Avon,  was  under  water  several  feet  deep; 
the  water  poured  in  at  the  lower  windows  of  the  adjoining 
hotel,  and  the  proprietor's  casks  of  beer  and  cider  in  the 
cellars,  ready  for  the  regatta,  were  lifted  from  their 
stands  and  bumped  against  walls  and  ceilings. 

Every  parish  has  its  Council  in  these  days,  and  in 
country  places  almost  every  other  person  one  meets  is 
a  councillor  of  some  sort,  and  inclined  to  be  proud  of  the 
distinction.  These  Councils  are  excellent  safety-valves 
for  parochial  malcontents  who  thus  harmlessly  let  off 
superfluous  steam  which  might  otherwise  ruffle  the 
abiding  calm  of  peaceful  inhabitants,  but  their  powers 
are  really  very  limited.  In  a  village  in  Worcestershire 
where  an  approach  road  crossed  a  brook  by  a  ford,  during 
floods  the  current  was  sometimes  so  strong  as  to  constitute 
a  danger  to  horses  and  carts.  The  village  pundits  therefore, 
in  council  duly  assembled,  considered  the  matter,  and  after 
an  extended  debate  the  following  resolution  was  carried 
unanimously,  "  That  a  notice  board  be  erected  on  the  spot 
bearing  the  inscription:  When  this  board  is  covered  with 
water  it  is  dangerous  to  attempt  to  cross  the  ford." 

The  numerous  brooks  in  the  Vale  of  Evesham  supply 
ample  water  for  the  stock,  but  in  more  elevated  parts, 
especially  on  the  chalk  Downs  of  Sussex,  Hants,  Wilts, 
and  Dorset,  provision  is  made  for  an  artificial  water  supply 
by  what  are  called  "  dcwponds."     A  shallow  saucer-shaped 


DEWPONDS  248 


depression  is  dug  out  on  the  open  Down,  the  bottom  being 
made  water-tight  by  puddhng  with  a  well-rammed  layer 
of  impervious    clay.     The    first    heavy   rainfall    fills    the 
pond,  and,  the  water  being  colder  than  the  air,  the  dew 
or  mist  condenses  on  its  surface  sufficiently,  in  ordinary 
weather,  to  maintain  the  supply.     In  a  dry  time  the  sheep 
can  always  reach  the  water,  the  pond  having  no  banks, 
by  the  shelving  formation  of  the  bottom.     Sometimes  a 
few  trees  are  allowed  to  grow  round  it;  they  also  act  as 
condensers,   and  their   drip   helps  to  fill  the  pond.     It  is 
only  in  an  abnormal  drought  that  these  dewponds  really 
fail,  and  a  thunderstorm,  followed   by  ordinary  weather, 
will    soon    refill   them.    Gilbert   White,    in  The    Natural 
History    of  Selborne,    refers    to   these    ponds    in    a   very 
interesting   letter    on    the    subject,   including    details    of 
condensation  by  trees,  in  which  he  gives  an  instance  of 
a  particular  pond,  high  up  on  the  Down,  300  feet  above 
his  house,  and   situated   in   such   a  position  that  it  was 
impossible    for  it  to   receive  any  water  from  springs  or 
drainage,  which  "though  never  above  three  feet  deep  in 
the  middle,  and  not  more  than  thirty  feet   in  diameter, 
and   containing,    perhaps,    not   more   than  two   or  three 
hundred  hogsheads  of  water,  yet  never  is  known  to  fail, 
though  it  affords  drink  for  three  hundred  or  four  hundred 
sheep,  and  for  at  least  twenty  head  of  large  cattle  besides." 
The   natural  well-water   in   the   Vale    of    Evesham   is 
exceedingly  hard,  and  in  the  town  and  some  villages  was 
formerly    much    contaminated.     After    great    opposition 
from  obstructive  ratepayers,  a  splendid  supply  was   ob- 
tained from  the  Cotswolds  above  Broadway,  about  six  miles 
away,  of  much  softer  and  really  pure  spring  water.     It 
comes  in  pipes  by  gravitation,  so  there  is  no  expense  of 
pumping;   but  it   was   difficult   to  get  recalcitrant  rate- 
payers to  lay  the  water  on  from  the  mains  to  their  houses, 
as  that  part  of  the  cost  had  to  be  borne  by  them  in- 
dividually; and,  before  compulsion  could  be  resorted  to, 
the  Council  had  to  prove  contamination  of  the  wells  and 
close  them.     To  get  the  evidence  samples  were  submitted 


244  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

to  a  London  analyst,  and  they  were  invariably  condemned. 
One  of  the  Councillors  suggested  sending,  with  a  number 
of  well  samples,  a  sample  of  the  new  supply  "  for  a  fad." 
The  samples  were  numbered,  but  had  no  other  distinguishing 
mark,  and  in  due  course  the  usual  condemnations  were 
received,  including  that  of  the  new  town  supply  ! 

During  the  wet  harvest  of  1879,  when  what  was  called 
by  townspeople  the  agricultural  depression,  was  becoming 
acute,  it  was  impossible  to  get  a  whole  day  on  which 
wheat  could  be  carried.  The  position  was  serious, 
because  the  grain  was  sprouting  in  the  sheaves  in  the 
field,  and  time  after  time  a  fairly  dry  Saturday  would 
have  allowed  carrying  the  following  day,  though  Monday 
was  always  as  wet  as  ever.  At  last  at  Aldington  we  faced 
the  situation  and  decided  to  proceed  with  the  work 
whenever  possible,  Sunday  or  no  Sunday.  A  fine  drying 
Saturday  occurred,  and  my  bailiff  told  the  men  what  we 
proposed,  adding  that  we  did  not  wish  anyone  to  help 
who  had  scruples  as  to  the  day.  They  all  appeared  on 
Sunday  morning,  a  brilliant  day,  except  one  "  conscientious 
objector,"  who,  as  I  heard  later,  spent  most  of  the  day  at  the 
public-house.  We  got  up  two  ricks  from  about  ten  acres, 
which  eventually  proved  to  be  some  of  the  driest  wheat 
we  had  that  year,  and  which  I  was  able  to  sell  for  seed  at 
a  good  price,  to  go  into  districts  where  no  dry  seed 
wheat  could  be  found. 

My  old  vicar  was  somewhat  scandalized  at  this  Sunday 
work,  and  some  of  my  neighbours  fancied  themselves 
shocked,  but  a  day  or  two  later  I  happened  to  meet 
another  clergyman  friend,  who  farmed  a  little  himself. 
"  I  was  so  pleased,"  he  said,  "  to  hear  that  you  were 
carrying  wheat  last  Sunday;  when  I  was  preaching  I  was 
strongly  disposed  to  conclude  by  telling  my  people — 
'  Now  you  have  been  to  church,  go  home  to  your  dinners, 
and  then  off  with  your  jackets  and  carry  wheat  for  the 
rest  of  the  day.'  "  Next  Sunday  all  my  neighbours  were 
busy  with  their  wheat,  but  I  had  managed  to  complete 
my  harvest  during  the  previous  week,  on  the  8th  of  October, 


A  WET  HARVEST  245 

quite  a  month  or  six  weeks  later  than  usual,  and  an  extra- 
ordinary contrast  to  the  very  dry  year  1868,  when  all 
the  corn  on  the  farm,  I  was  told,  was  carried  before  the 
last  day  of  July. 

I  attended  a  neighbour's  sale  that  autumn;  the  wet 
seasons  and  the  low  prices  had  been  too  much  for  him, 
and  he  was  leaving  for  the  United  States;  his  rick-yard 
was  empty,  all  the  corn  sold,  and  nothing  but  straw  left. 
I  heard  him  remark,  "  Folks  are  saying  that  I'm  very 
backward  with  my  payments,  but  I'm  very  forward  with 
my  thrashing,  anyway !"  Before  the  following  spring 
nearly  all  the  rick-yards  were  empty,  and  wheat-ricks, 
it  was  said,  were  as  scarce  as  churches — one  in  each  parish. 
The  situation  was  summed  up  later  in  a  phrase  which 
passed  into  a  proverb:  "In  1879  farmers  lived  on  faith, 
in  1880  they  are  living  on  hope,  and  in  1881  they  will  have 
to  live  on  charity." 

The  attitude  of  the  towns  was  one  of  apathy  and  in- 
difference, like  that  of  the  General  in  Bracebridge  Hall, 
which,  published  in  1822,  proves  how  history  repeats  itself 
in  agricultural  as  in  other  matters : 

"  He  is  amazingly  well-contented  with  the  present 
state  of  things,  and  apt  to  get  a  little  impatient  at  any 
talk  about  national  ruin  and  agricultural  distress.  '  They 
talk  of  public  distress,'  said  the  General  this  day  to  me 
at  dinner,  as  he  smacked  a  glass  of  rich  burgundy  and 
cast  his  eyes  about  the  ample  board:  '  They  talk  of  public 
distress,  but  where  do  we  find  it,  sir  ?  I  see  none;  I  see 
no  reason  anyone  has  to  complain.  Take  my  word  for 
it,  sir,  this  talk  about  public  distress  is  all  humbug  !'  " 

At  Evesham,  long  before  the  depression  grew  into  a 
debacle,  the  shadows  of  coming  events  could  easily  be 
detected.  There  was  the  disappearance  of  the  long  rows  of 
farmers'  conveyances  at  the  inns  in  the  town  on  market- 
days;  there  was  the  eclipse  of  shops — for  other  than 
necessities — such  as  a  little  fish  shop,  opposite  the  corner 
at  the  cross  roads;  a  corner  where  much  business  was  for- 
merly transacted  in  the  open  street,  and  ^vhere  I  myself 


246  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


have  sold  by  sample  some  thousands  of  sacks  of  wheat. 
A  tempting  little  shop  it  used  to  be,  displaying  shining 
Severn  salmon;  and  it  was  here  that  the  farmers,  after  the 
market,  obtained  the  supplies  commanded  by  the  missus 
at  home. 

And  there  was  the  abandonment  of  the  Corn  Market 
proper,  for  the  class  of  farmers  who  survived  hated  to 
transact  their  business  indoors.  The  attendance  of 
millers  and  dealers,  except  of  those  who  had  cargoes  of 
foreign  corn  at  Gloucester  or  Bristol  to  dispose  of,  became 
irregular.  Sales  of  farm  stock  and  implements  took  place 
in  every  village  on  farms  which  had  passed  from  father  to 
son  for  generations,  coupled  with  the  sacrifice  of  valuable 
implements  and  machinery  for  want  of  buyers.  There 
followed  the  stage  when  landowners  who  could  find 
no  tenants,  and  had  heavily  mortgaged  estates,  essayed 
to  make  the  best  of  them  by  laying  away  the  arable 
land  to  pasture,  undertaking  the  management  themselves 
with,  perhaps,  an  old  broken-down  tenant  as  bailiff.  The 
politicians  and  the  general  public  did  not  apprehend 
the  danger  of  the  situation,  in  spite  of  innumerable  warnings, 
until  the  German  submarines  were  sending  our  foreign 
food  supplies  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea;  and  now  that  the 
immediate  danger  of  starvation  has  passed,  they  appear 
already  to  have  lapsed  again  into  an  attitude  of  apathy. 

We  hear  the  blessed  word  "  reconstruction  "  on  every 
side,  but  the  only  official  propositions  for  the  permanent 
establishment  of  agricultural  prosperity  that  I  have  heard 
are  utterly  inadequate.  It  is  ridiculous  to  suppose  that 
a  few  thousand  acres  of  special  crops,  like  tobacco,  for 
instance,  only  possible  in  favoured  spots,  can  in  any  way 
compensate  for  the  loss  of  millions  of  acres  of  arable  land 
under  rotations  of  corn  and  green  crops.  Under  present 
conditions  nothing  is  more  certain  than  the  abandonment 
of  arable  land  as  such;  and  it  is  folly  to  talk  of  novel 
systems  of  transport  for  a  dwindling  output,  or  of  building 
labourers'  cottages  at  an  unjustifiable  cost,  which  are 
never  likely  to  be  wanted  by  a  dying  industry. 


,  WEATHER  PHENOMENA  247 

Among  my  experiences  of  abnormal  weather,  I  have 
a  note  of  a  remarkable  summer  flood  on  July  21,  1875, 
when  my  hay  was  lying  in  the  meadows  beside  the  brooks, 
and  had  to  be  removed  to  higher  ground  in  pouring  rain 
to  prevent  its  disappearance  with  the  current.  On  the 
following  day,  .  July  22,  the  highest  flood  since  1845 
occurred  at  Evesham. 

October  14,  1877,  was  memorable  for  the  most 
terrific  south-west  gale  that  happened  in  all  the  years  I 
passed  at  Aldington;  thirteen  trees,  mostly  old  apple  trees 
and  elms,  were  blown  down,  including  the  splendid 
veteran  "  Chate  boy "  pear  tree  at  Blackminster,  an 
exceedingly  sad  and  irreparable  loss.  The  gale  blew 
hardest  in  special  tracks,  the  course  of  which  could  be 
followed  by  the  destruction  of  trees  and  branches  in  dis- 
tinct lanes,  cut  through  woods  and  plantations. 

The  winter  of  1880-1881  was  very  severe,  the  mean 
temperature  of  January,  1881,  being  27'8  degrees  F., 
the  coldest  January  since  1820.  Ten  years  later, 
1890-1891,  another  very  prolonged  winter  occurred:  the 
frost  began  on  the  6th  of  December,  and,  with  scarcely  a 
break,  continued  till  well  into  February.  The  feature 
of  this  frost  was  the  fine  settled  weather,  and  the  warmth 
of  the  midday  sun  in  the  brilliant  air,  when  skaters  could 
sit  on  the  river  banks  and  enjoy  their  rest  and  lunch  in 
its  rays.  I  took  my  elder  daughter  back  to  school  at 
Richmond  at  the  end  of  January,  and  in  London  we 
saw  the  Thames  choked  by  huge  hummocks  of  ice,  on 
which  people  were  crossing  the  river.  An  ox  was  roasted 
whole  on  the  Avon  at  Evesham,  and,  when  the  frost 
broke  up,  the  ice  on  our  millpond  was  17  inches  thick. 

Another  great  frost  happened  in  1894-1895,  beginning 
late  in  December,  and  lasting  till  the  end  of  February, 
with  a  single  intervening  week  of  thaw;  and  in  March 
the  ground,  in  places,  was  too  hard  to  plough.  It  was  the 
only  time  that  I  was  completely  at  a  loss  to  find  work  for 
my  men;  all  the  carting  was  finished  in  the  early  days 
of  the   frost,    and    all    the   thrashing   possible   followed; 


248  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


ploughing  and  all  working  of  the  land,  or  draining,  were 
impracticable.  The  men,  seeing  that  there  would  be  no 
employment  for  them  until  the  frost  broke  up,  told  me 
that  if  they  might  get  what  wood  they  could  from  fallen 
trees  in  the  brook,  and  if  I  would  lend  them  horses  and 
carts  to  get  it  home,  they  would  be  glad  to  work  in  that 
way  for  themselves  for  a  time.  Just  as  they  had  cleared 
both  brooks  from  end  to  end  of  the  farm  which  occupied 
them  about  ten  days,  the  thaw  came  and  I  was  able  to 
find  them  plenty  to  do. 

We  suffered  very  little  from  droughts  at  Aldington, 
the  land  was  naturally  so  retentive  of  moisture,  but 
1893  was  a  dry  year,  not  easily  forgotten;  no  rain  fell 
from  early  in  March  to  July  13;  the  hay  crop  was  the 
lightest  in  remembrance,  and  straw  was  so  short  and 
scarce  that  the  hay-ricks  of  the  following  year,  1894, 
had  to  go  unthatched  until  the  harvest  of  that  year 
provided  the  necessary  straw. 

The  spring  of  1895  was  remarkable  for  a  plague  of 
the  caterpillars  of  the  winter-moth,  due  to  the  destruction 
of  insect-eating  birds  by  the  great  frost;  the  caterpillars 
devoured  the  young  leaves  of  the  plum-trees,  so  that 
whole  orchards  were  completely  stripped.  The  balance 
between  insectivorous  birds  and  caterpillar  life  was 
destroyed  for  a  time,  and  the  caterpillars  conquered  the 
plum-trees.  In  1917,  during  the  persistent  north-east 
blasts  of  February,  March,  and  part  of  April,  the  destruc- 
tion of  birds  was  terrible ;  all  the  tit  tribe  suffered  greatly, 
and  the  charming  little  golden-crested  wren,  which  here 
in  the  Forest  was  quite  common,  has  scarcely  been  seen 
since.  Caterpillars  again  were  a  plague  in  my  apple  trees 
that  spring,  but  were  not  really  destructive,  and  in  the 
autumn  the  apples  escaped  their  usual  punishment  from 
the  birds  and  wasps.  Tits  are  often  very  troublesome; 
they  peck  holes  in  the  fruit,  apparently  in  search  of  the 
larvae  of  the  codlin  moth,  leaving  an  opening  for  wasps 
and  flies.  I  find  the  berries  of  the  laurel,  which  is  a 
species  of  cherry,  very  attractive  to  blackbirds,  and  as 


WILL-O'-THE-WISP  249 


long  as  there  are  any  left  they  seem  to  prefer  them  to  the 
apples.  In  1895  cuckoos  came  to  the  rescue  of  my  young 
plum  orchard;  there  were  dozens  of  them  at  work  on  the 
nine  acres  at  once,  and  they  must  have  cleared  away  an 
immense  number  of  the  grubs. 

The  most  remarkable  season  we  have  had  since  I  left 
Aldington  was  the  great  drought  of  1911.  There  was 
no  rain  here  worth  mention  from  June  22,  the  Coronation 
of  King  George  V.,  until  August  30,  and  the  pastures 
on  this  thin  land  were  burnt  up.  On  August  30  we 
had  some  friends  for  tennis,  and  we  had  not  been  playing 
long  before  a  mighty  cloud-burst  occurred;  the  rain  fell  in 
torrents.  "  It  didn't  stop  to  rain,  it  tumbled  down," 
as  my  men  used  to  say,  and  in  about  half  an  hour  the  lawn 
was  a  sheet  of  water,  the  ground  being  so  hard,  that  it 
could  not  soak  away.  It  was  all  over  in  an  hour,  and  a 
neighbour  with  a  rain-gauge  registered  0*66  of  an  inch  of 
rain,  equal  to  66  tons  on  an  acre,  or  330  tons  on  my 
five  acres. 

One  of  my  ambitions  has  always  been  to  see  a  Will-o'- 
the-wisp,  and  I  am  still  hoping;  but  that  hot  summer,  had  I 
known  it  at  the  time,  they  were  quite  common  within 
an  easy  walk  of  my  house  in  the  New  Forest.  There  was 
some  correspondence  on  the  subject  in  The  Observer,  and 
the  following  is  extracted  from  one  of  the  letters : 

"  As  none  of  your  correspondents  seem  to  be  aware  of  a 
comparatively  recent  instance,  I  write  to  say  that  there 
were  enough  indubitable  Will-o'-the-wisps  to  convince  the 
most  incredulous  during  the  extremely  hot  weather  of 
July,   1911. 

"  From  July  18  to  22  I  was  at  Thorney  Hill  in  the 
New  Forest,  some  seven  miles  behind  Christchurch. 
Owing  to  the  abnormal  drought  the  bogs  and  bog-streams 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill  westward  were  all  but  dry;  a  dense 
mist,  however,  sometimes  rose  from  them  at  night.  On 
July  19,  and  the  three  following  nights,  the  Will-o'-the- 
wisps  were  in  great  form  over  the  bog.  They  were  like 
small  balls  of  bluish  fire,  which  projected  themselves  with 


250  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

hops  and  jerks  across  the  most  inaccessible  parts  of  the 
bofT,  starting  always,  so  far  as  could  be  told,  from  where 
a  little  stagnant  moisture  still  remained.  They  moved 
with  an  erratic  velocity,  so  to  speak,  appearing  and 
reappearing  at  distances  of  several  hundred  yards.  There 
wasn't  the  slightest  doubt  of  their  authenticity. 

"  The  inhabitants  of  Thorney  Hill,  I  believe,  regarded 
these  appearances  with  alarm,  as  being,  though  not 
exactly  novelties,  harbingers  of  much  misfortune.  But 
the  drought  was  quite  bad  enough,  without  having  the 
Jack-o'-lanterns  to  accentuate  it  !" 

This  instance  was  the  more  remarkable  as  I  have 
never  succeeded  in  finding  anyone,  even  among  people 
who  are  constantly  on  duty  in  the  Forest,  who  could 
testify  to  having  seen  a  Will-o'-the-wisp. 

Waterspouts  are,  I  believe,  more  frequently  seen  at 
sea  than  on  land,  but  I  have  an  account  from  my  brother, 
Mr.  F.  E.  Savory,  of  one  he  saw  many  years  ago  in  Wilt- 
shire.   He  writes: 

"  When  I  was  at  Manningford  Bruce  in  1873  or  1874, 
I  saw  a  dense  black  cloud  travelling  towards  the  south- 
east, the  lower  part  of  which  became  pointed  like  a  funnel 
in  shape,  waving  about  as  it  descended  until,  I  suppose, 
the  attraction  of  the  earth  overcame  the  cohesion  of  the 
cloud's  vapour,  and  it  discharged  itself.  I  could  see  it 
looking  lighter  and  lighter,  from  the  middle  outwards, 
until  it  was  entirely  dispersed.  I  heard  that  the  water 
fell  on  the  side  of  the  Down  near  Collingbourne,  about 
five  miles  off,  and  washed  some  of  the  soil  away,  but  I 
did  not  see  that.  The  weather  was  stormy,  but  I  do  not 
remember  the  time  of  year  or  any  other  particulars." 

It  would  seem  that  a  waterspout  is  caused  by  a  whirl- 
wind entering  a  cloud  and  gathering  vapour  together  by  its 
rotary  action  into  such  a  heavy  mass  that  it  descends 
in  the  funnel  shape  described.  We  are  all  familiar  with 
the  small  whirlwinds  that  travel  across  a  road  in  summer, 
carrying  the  dust  round  and  round  with  them;  these  are 
called    "  whirly-curlies "    in    Worcestershire,   and   are   re- 


VARIOUS  251 


garded  as  a  sign  of  fine  weather.  I  have  sometimes  seen 
quite  a  strong  one  crossing  rows  of  hay  just  ready  to 
carry,  cutting  a  clean  track  through  each  row,  and  leaving 
the  ground  bare  where  it  passed.  The  hay  is  often 
carried  to  a  great  height,  and  sometimes  dropped  in  an 
adjoining  field. 

On  a  bright  morning  in  summer  one  often  sees,  a  little 
distance  away,  a  tremulous  or  flickering  movement  in  the 
air,  not  far  from  the  ground,  which  Tennyson  refers  to  in 
In  Memoriarn,  as,  "  The  landscape  winking  thro'  the  heat  " ; 
and  again  in  The  Princess  : 

"  All  the  rich  to  come 
Reels,  as  the  golden  Autumn  woodland  reels 
Athwart  the  smoke  of  burning  weeds." 

I  am  told  that  this  appearance  is  "  due  to  layers  of 
air  of  different  degrees  of  refracting  power,  in  motion,  relative 
to  one  another.  Air  at  different  temperatures  will  refract 
light  differently."  In  Hampshire  this  phenomenon  is 
known  by  the  pretty  name  of  "  the  summer  dance." 

Since  I  came  to  the  Forest  I  have  seen  two  very  curious 
and,  I  think,  unusual  natural  appearances.  As  I  was 
cycling  one  rather  dull  afternoon  from  Wimborne  to  Ring- 
wood,  I  noticed  a  colourless  rainbow,  or  perhaps  I  should 
say,  "  mist-bow,"  for  there  was  no  rain,  and  the  sun  was 
partially  obscured.  The  sun  was  about  south-west,  and 
the  bow  was  north-east;  it  was  merely  a  series  of  well- 
defined  but  colourless  segments  of  circles,  close  to  each 
other  but  shaded  so  as  to  make  them  distinguishable, 
arranged  exactly  like  a  rainbow  but  without  a  trace  of 
colour  beyond  a  grey  uniformity.  It  was  on  my  left 
for  several  miles,  perhaps  half  of  the  total  distance  of 
nine  miles  between  the  two  towns. 

Cycling  another  day  between  Lyndhurst  and  Burley,  I 
reached  the  east  entrance  of  Burley  Lodge,  which  is  on 
higher  ground  than  the  farm  spread  out  to  the  right  in 
the  valley.  The  whole  valley  was  filled  with  thick  white 
mist,  as  level  as  a  lake,  so  that  nothing  could  be  seen  of 


252 


AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


the  fields.  The  setting  sun  was  low  down  at  the  further 
extremity  of  the  valley,  and  the  surfaee  of  the  mist-lake 
reflected  its  rays  in  a  rosy  sheen,  with  a  traek  of  brighter 
light  in  the  middle,  stretching  from  the  far  end  of  the  lake 
in  a  broad  path  almost  to  where  I  was  standing;  just  as 
we  see  the  track  of  sunlight  or  moonlight,  sometimes,  on 
the  sea,  from  the  shore.  This  phenomenon  is  not  uncom- 
mon when  one  is  looking  down  from  the  top  of  a  hill  in 
the  sunshine,  upon  a  valley  full  of  mist,  but  I  have  never 
seen  it  before  from  comparatively  low  ground,  as  on  this 
occasion. 

My  summers  at  Aldington  were  nearly  always  too 
busy  to  allow  me  to  take  a  holiday,  except  for  a  very 
few  days,  but  when  the  urgent  work  of  the  year  was  over, 
the  harvest  completed,  and  the  hops  and  the  fruit  picked, 
we  always  had  a  clear  month  away  from  home,  about  the 
middle  of  October  to  the  middle  of  November;  and,  as 
we  found  the  autumn  much  less  advanced  in  the  south 
than  in  the  midlands,  we  often  spent  the  time  on  the 
south  coast  or  in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  and  we  were  nearly 
always  favoured  by  fine  weather.  On  one  of  these  occasions, 
when  we  were  exploring  the  whole  island  on  bicycles, 
I  never  once  found  it  necessary  to  carry  a  waterproof 
cape,  though  in   the   course    of  this  visit  we  rode  over 

600  miles. 

NOTE. 

The  CuANGiNG  Course  op  Streams. 


Ft/  1 


r»./:2.. 


Fig.  1  shows  the  flattened  S  formed  by  the  stream. 

Fig.  2  shows  the  short  circuit  formed  later  at  A  and  the  island  B 
When  the  old  bed  of  the  stream  round  B  gets  lilled  up,  the  island  B  dis- 
appears, and  its  area  and  that,  part  of  the  old  bed  formerly  on  the  west 
side  of  the  stream  is  transferred  to  the  east  side. 


J 


CHAPTER  XXI 

BIRDS:   PEACOCKS— A  WHITE  PHEASANT- 
ROOKS'  ARITHMETIC 

"  Hail  to  thee,  blithe  spirit  ! 
Bird  thou  never  wert, 
That  from  heaven  or  near  it, 
Pourest  thy  full  heart." 

Shelley:  To  a  Skylark. 

We  read  of  the  peacocks  which  Solomon's  navy  of  Tarshish 
brought  once  in  three  years  with  other  rare  and  precious 
commodities  to  contribute  to  the  splendour  of  his  court; 
and  doubtless  their  magnificence  added  a  distinct  fea- 
ture even  where  so  much  that  was  beautiful  was  to  be 
seen;  but,  to  show  itself  off  to  the  best  advantage,  one 
cannot  imagine  a  better  place  for  a  peacock  than  a  grey 
old  English  home,  round  whose  mellow  stone  walls  time 
is  lingering  lovingly.  The  touch  of  brilliant  life  beside 
the  appeal  of  the  venerable  past  adds  perfection  to  the 
picture.  I  have  always  had  an  immense  admiration  for 
peacocks,  and  soon  after  I  came  to  Aldington  I  bought 
a  pair.  The  cock  we  named  Gabriel  Junks,  after  the 
famous  bird  in  one  of  Scrutator's  books ;  he  was  a  grand 
presence,  and  loved  to  display  the  huge  fan  of  his 
gorgeously-eyed  tail,  quivering  his  rattling  quills  in  all 
the  glory  of  its  greens  and  blues,  and  cinnamon-coloured 
wing  feathers,  on  the  little  piece  of  lawn  under  the 
chestnut  trees  in  front  of  the  Manor. 

He  learned  to  come  to  the  window  every  morning  at 
breakfast -time  for  a  piece  of  bread-and-butter,  and  if  the 
window  was  closed  he  would  rap  impatiently  upon  it  with 
his  beak.  He  roosted  in  the  orchard  just  across  the  road 
on  the  trunk  of  an  ancient  leaning  apple-tree.  One  night 
Bell   heard  a  terrible  fluttering,  and   looking  out   saw  a 

253 


254  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


fox  making  off  with  the  peacock;  he  shouted  and  the 
fox  dropped  the  peacock  and  bolted.  Gabriel  was  not 
hurt,  but  sadly  ruffled  inwardly  and  outwardly,  though, 
next  day,  he  was  quite  happy  and  apparently  unconscious 
of  his  narrow  escape.  But  alas  !  some  months  later 
Reynard  paid  another  visit,  and  poor  Gabriel  was  never 
seen  again.  Some  years  alter  we  bought  another  pair, 
not  nearly  so  tame  as  the  first,  and  sometimes  flying  on 
to  the  cottage  roofs  and  scraping  holes  in  the  thatch  in 
which  to  bask  in  the  sun.  The  villagers  complained 
that  the  birds  sat  under  their  black  currant  bushes,  and 
devoured  the  currants  as  last  as  they  ripened  !  We  could 
not  keep  them  within  bounds,  and  later  sold  them  to 
St.  John's  College,  Oxford,  where  we  saw  them  soon  after- 
wards in  good  plumage,  and  exactly  in  keeping  with  their 
beautiful  surroundings. 

One  of  my  neighbours  appeared  to  find  these  birds  a 
special  infliction,  and  complained  of  the  invasion  of  his 
premises  by  "  them  payeoeks."  The  word  "  pea "  is 
always  rendered  "  pay "  in  Worcestershire,  and,  like 
"  tay  "  for  "  tea,"  is  probably  the  old  correct  pronuncia- 
tion. I  lately  saw  a  notice  on  some  tumble-down  premises 
near  Southampton,  "  Pay  and  bane  stiks  for  sale." 
Another  notice,  not  too  happily  composed,  is  to  be  seen 
at  a  Forest  village;  after  the  owner's  name,  "  Carpenter, 
builder  and  undertaker — repairs  neatly  executed." 

The  neighbour  referred  to  was  exercised  in  his  mind 
as  to  my  position  in  various  unwelcome  parochial  offices, 
but  I  was  completely  mystified  when  he  told  me  that  he 
had  read  in  history  of  a  King  Alfred,  but  had  never  heard 
of  a  King  Arthur.  I  did  not  grasp  the  force  of  his  remark, 
possibly  because  King  Arthur  was  a  familiar  character  to 
me,  until  I  was  nearly  at  my  own  door,  when  it  dawned 
upon  me  to  my  intense  enjoyment.  If  the  reader  fails, 
like  me,  to  see  the  point,  let  him  turn  to  the  title-page 
of  this  book,  and  read  the  name  of  the  writer. 

The  only  real  objection  to  peacocks,  under  ordinary 
conditions,  is  the  discordance  of  their  cries,  especially  in 


A  WHITE  PHEASANT  255 


thundeiy  weather,  when  they  scream  in  answer  to  every 
thunder-clap.  Cock  pheasants,  relatives  of  the  peacock, 
crow  loudly  at  any  unusual  noise;  and  I  have  known 
them  expostulate  at  the  report  of  a  gun  ;  they  took 
flight,  after  running  to  a  safe  distance,  and  their  crow 
appeared  to  be  in  the  nature  of  a  challenge  or  defiance, 
just  as  a  barn-door  cock  will  exult  if  you  give  him  the 
idea  that  he  has  driven  you  away. 

When  the  vessel  which  carried  the  coffin  of  Queen 
Victoria  was  crossing  the  Solent,  in  1901,  some  very 
heavy  salutes  were  fired  from  the  battleships,  and,  the 
day  being  still  and  the  air  clear,  the  detonations  carried 
to  an  immense  distance.  They  were  distinctly  heard  at 
Moreton-in-the-Marsh,  only  fourteen  miles  from  Aldington 
and  a  distance  of  nearly  one  hundred  miles  from  the  guns, 
in  a  direct  line.  The  reports  were  so  loud  at  Woodstock, 
near  Oxford,  that  the  pheasants  began  crowing  in  the 
Blenheim  preserves. 

At  Alton  there  were  some  extensive  woods  and  coppices 
on  the  farm,  which  were  favourite  breeding-places  for 
pheasants,  being  dry  and  sunny.  Some  months  before 
October  1,  when  pheasant  shooting  begins,  a  white 
pheasant  was  seen,  and  although  he  disappeared  for  a 
time,  he  fell  eventually  to  the  gun  of  the  tenant.  He 
was  a  beautiful  bird,  and  was  considered  worth  stuffing 
as  a  rarity.  Albinism  is  not  uncommon  in  the  blackbird; 
I  have  seen  two  partial  instances  lately;  one  was  constantly 
visible  in  my  garden  and  meadows,  with  head  nearly  all 
white,  and  the  other  I  saw  in  the  public  garden  at  Bourne- 
mouth, with  the  peculiarity  still  more  developed.  A 
white  martin,  or  swallow,  came  into  the  house  of  a  friend 
near  Aldington,  and  was  regarded  as  an  unfavourable  omen. 
Melanism,  the  opposite  of  albinism,  is  rarer,  and  the  only 
instance  I  have  seen  was  that  of  a  black  bullfinch  at 
Aldington;  it  had  evidently  been  mobbed  as  a  stranger 
by  other  birds  of  its  kind,  as  it  was  injured  and  nearly 
dead  when  captured.  I  had  the  specimen  stuffed  as  a 
curiosity,  though  I  am  not  fond  of  stuffed  birds.     It  is 


256  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


said  that  hemp-seed,  if  given  in  undue  quantities  to  cage 
bullfinches,  will  produce  the  black  colour,  even  upon  a 
bird  of  quite  natural  plumage  originally,  and  a  case  of 
the  kind  is  mentioned  by  Gilbert  White. 

Aldington,  with  its  quiet  apple  orchards  and  the 
"  island "  and  shrubberies  below  my  garden,  was  a 
happy  refuge  for  birds  of  all  kinds,  and  the  old  pollard- 
willow  heads  a  favourite  nesting-place.  Worcestershire 
people  have  some  very  curious  names  for  birds,  and  some 
of  these  are  also  heard  in  Hampshire  and  Dorset.  The 
green  woodpecker  is  the  "  stock-eagle,"  "  ekal,"  or 
"hickle,"  both  in  Worcestershire  and  Hampshire,  and  the 
word  survives  too  in  "  Hickle  Brook  "  in  the  Forest,  and  in 
"  Hickle  Street,"  a  part  of  Buckle  Street  in  Worcestershire. 
As  a  boy  I  once  marked  a  green  woodpecker  into  one  of 
the  round  holes  we  see  quite  newly  cut  by  the  bird  in  an 
oak;  getting  a  butterfly  net  I  clapped  it  over  the  hole, 
caught  the  bird,  took  it  home  and  placed  it  in  a  wicker 
cage.  Then,  returning  to  the  tree  with  a  chisel  and  mallet, 
I  cut  a  hole  about  a  foot  below  the  entrance  to  the  nest, 
only  to  find  young  birds  instead  of  the  eggs  for  which 
I  had  hoped.  I  went  home  to  see  how  my  captive  was 
getting  on;  she  was  gone,  and  her  method  of  escape  was 
plain,  one  or  two  of  the  wicker  bars  being  neatly  cut 
through.  I  had  forgotten  the  power  of  "  stocking  "  of  a 
*'  stock-eagle,"  for  that  is  the  meaning  of  the  prefix  in  the 
name. 

The  laughing  cry  of  the  green  woodpecker,  or  "  yaffle," 
as  the  bird  is  by  onomatopoeia  called  in  some  parts, 
is  regarded  as  a  sign  of  rain.  I  doubt  whether  it  should 
be  always  so  interpreted,  for  I  know  it  is  sometimes 
a  sign  of  distress  or  call  for  help,  having  heard  it  from 
one  in  full  flight  from  a  pursuing  hawk.  Other  curious  local 
names  of  birds  in  Worcestershire  are  "  Blue  Isaac  "  for 
hedge  sparrow,  "  mumruffin  "  for  long-tailed  tit,  "  maggot  " 
for  magpie,  and  the  heron  is  always  called  "  bittern  " 
(really  quite  a  distinct  bird).  There  are  innumerable 
rhymes  as  to  the  signification  of  numbers  where  magpies  are 


BIRDS  257 

concerned,  but  the  most  complete  I  have  heard  runs 
thus: 

"  One's  joy,  two's  grief, 
Three's  marriage,  four's  death, 
Five's  heaven,  six  is  hell, 
Seven's  the  devil  his  own  sel'." 

Other  rhymes  make  "  one "  an  unlucky  number,  and 
there  are  many  people  in  Worcestershire  who  never  see 
a  solitary  magpie  without  touching  their  hats  to  avert 
the  omen,  and  convert  it  to  one  of  good-luck;  as  a  man 
once  said  to  me,  "  It  is  as  well  not  to  lose  a  chance." 

The  kingfisher,  I  suppose  the  most  beautiful  of  British 
birds,  was,  with  all  my  brooks,  a  common  bird  at  Aldington. 
Its  steady  flight,  following  the  course  of  a  stream,  and  its 
brilliant  colouring  make  it  very  conspicuous,  its  turquoise 
blue  varying  to  dark  green,  and  its  orange  breast  flashing 
in  the  sun.  I  found  a  nest  in  a  water-rat's  old  hole, 
with  six  very  transparent  white  eggs,  deriving  a  rosy  tint 
from  the  yolk,  almost  visible,  within  the  shell.  The  hole 
had  an  entrance  above  the  bank,  descended  vertically, 
turned  at  a  right  angle  where  the  nest,  merely  a  layer  of 
small  fish-bones,  was  placed,  and  ended  horizontally  on 
the  side  of  the  bank.  I  once  saw  six  young  kingfishers 
sitting  side  by  side  on  a  dead  branch,  close  together, 
evidently  just  out  of  the  nest.  And  I  was  fortunate  in 
seeing  a  kingfisher  dart  upon  the  water,  hover  for  an 
instant  like  a  hawk-moth  over  honeysuckle,  and,  having 
caught  a  small  gudgeon,  fly  away  with  it  in  its  beak. 
They,  like  the  martin,  always  perch  on  leafless  wood, 
so  that  the  leaves  shall  not  impede  their  flight  when 
pouncing  upon  a  fish,  and  no  doubt  this  is  the  reason  they 
sometimes  perch  on  the  top  joint  of  the  rod  of  a  hidden 
fisherman. 

The  nuthatch,  called  here  the  "  mud-dauber,"  from 
its  habit  of  narrowing  the  hole  of  a  starling's  old 
nest,  with  mud,  for  its  own  use  as  a  nesting-place,  is  a 
more  common  bird  in  the  Forest  than  in  Worcestershire. 
It  is  a  provident  bird,  firmly  wedging  hazel  nuts  in  the 

17 


258  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

autumn  into  crevices  of  the  Scots-fir,  for  a  winter  store. 
Bewick  mentions  that  it  uses  these  crevices  as  vices,  to 
hold  the  nut  securely,  while  it  cracks  it;  but  he  does  not 
recognize  the  fact  that  they  have  been  stored  long 
previously.  I  have  seen  a  great  number  of  nuts  so  stored 
and  quite  sound. 

Bewick,  by  the  way,  who  wrote  his  History  of  British 
Birds  in  1797,  presents  in  one  of  his  inimitable  "  tail- 
piece "  wood-cuts  a  prevision  of  the  aeroplane.  The 
picture  shows  the  airman  seated  in  a  winged  car,  guiding 
with  reins  thirteen  harnessed  herons  as  the  motive  power, 
and  mounting  upwards,  apparently  very  near  the  moon. 
If  he  can  see  the  modern  interpretation  of  his  dream 
he  must  be  pleasantly  surprised.  Bewick's  woodcock 
is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  portraits  in  the  book: 
the  accurate  detail  of  the  feather  markings  of  the  wings 
and  back  and  the  softer  tone  of  the  breast  are  as  nearly 
perfection  as  possible.  A  woodcock  visited  Aldington 
in  one  of  the  very  severe  winters  but  managed  to  elude 
all  pursuers.  It  has  been  said,  and  also  contradicted, 
that  the  woodcock  when  rising  from  the  ground  uses 
its  long  bill  as  a  lever  to  assist  its  starting,  just  as  an 
oarsman  pushes  off  from  the  bank  with  a  boat-hook  or  oar; 
I  myself  have  seen  one  rising  from  a  bare  and  marshy 
place,  and  the  position  of  its  bill  certainly  gave  me  the 
impression  that  the  idea  was  well  founded. 

The  woodcock  often  breeds  in  the  south  of  England, 
but  is  usually  a  migrating  bird,  arriving  during  the  first 
moon  in  November;  it  is  not  difficult  to  shoot  when  it 
first  rises,  but  when  steam  is  really  up  and  it  is  zig-zagging 
between  the  branches  of  an  oak,  it  takes  a  good  shot  to 
make  sure  of  it.  I  shall  never  forget  the  first  woodcock 
I  shot  as  a  boy;  it  was  a  thick  misty  day  in  November, 
I  fired,  and  though  I  felt  certain  I  had  not  missed,  the 
smoke  hung  and  the  air  was  too  thick  to  see,  and,  after 
a  long  search,  I  left  the  wood  and  was  going  home  when 
our  old  spaniel,  Flush,  turned  his  head  to  examine 
something  in  a  deep  cart  rut.     Following  the  direction  of 


BIRDS  259 

his  eyes,  I  saw  my  woodcock;  it  must  have  flown  100  yards 
or  more  after  I  fired.  I  was  still  more  pleased  with 
the  last  shot  I  fired  in  our  old  Surrey  covers  at  a  woodcock 
going  like  an  express  train — and  faster,  for  they  are  said 
to  fly  at  the  rate  of  150  miles  an  hour — with  all  his  tricks, 
through  thick  branches  in  the  adjoining  cover,  where 
he  fell  at  least  65  yards  from  where  I  stood.  A  friend 
of  mine  had  the  good-fortune  to  see  an  old  woodcock, 
which  had  evidently  bred  in  his  woods,  flying,  followed 
by  five  or  six  young  ones;  he  said  it  was  one  of  the  prettiest 
bits  of  natural  history  he  had  ever  seen. 

"  If  a  woodcock  had  a  partridge's  breast 
He'd  be  the  best  bird  that  ever  was  dressed ; 
If  a  partridge  had  a  woodcock's  thigh 
He'd  be  the  best  bird  that  ever  did  fly." 

is  a  very  old  description,  and  fairly  divides  the  honours 
between  the  two  birds. 

The  hawfinch  is  very  easily  recognized  by  its  distinct 
and  beautiful  colouring;  it  is  a  shy  bird,  and  though  it 
bred  regularly  at  Aldington,  we  rarely  saw  it.  It  is 
commoner  here,  and  is  sometimes  very  destructive,  its 
powerful  beak  making  havoc  with  the  "  marrowfats " ; 
but,  though  I  am  partial  to  green  peas  of  this  description, 
I  would  sooner  suffer  some  damage  than  have  the  haw- 
finches shot. 

In  1918  the  cuckoos  were  exceedingly  numerous  here, 
and  round  my  house  they  were  calling  all  day  long. 
Owing  to  the  terrible  winter  and  early  spring  months 
of  the  previous  year,  so  many  of  the  insectivorous  birds 
had  been  destroyed,  that  the  caterpillars  had  escaped, 
and  were  more  numerous  than  ever  in  the  following  spring. 
The  oaks  in  places  were  completely  stripped  of  their 
foliage  by  the  larvae  of  Tortrix  viridana,  almost  as  soon 
as  the  leaves  were  out.  The  cuckoos  discovered  them,  but 
were  not  in  sufficient  numbers  to  keep  them  down,  and 
it  was  midsummer  before  the  trees  recovered.  I  have 
referred  to  the  damage  in  my  plum  orchard  at  Aldington 
from  the  attack  of  the  larvse  of   the  winter-moth;    the 


260  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

damage  is  not  confined  to  the  actual  year  of  its  occurrence, 
the  crop  suffers  the  following  year  owing  to  the  previous 
defoliation  of  the  tree,  which  is  weakened  and  is  unable 
to  mature  healthy  fruit  buds.  At  Aldington,  in  a  hot 
summer,  the  cuckoos  used  to  call  nearly  all  night,  and  I 
have  heard  them  when  it  was  quite  dark. 

For    some    years,    until    1918,    goldfinches    were    quite 
common  in  Hampshire  and  Dorsetshire.     I  have  seen  a 
flock  of  over  forty  together.     I  had  seven  nests  on  my 
premises  here  one  summer;  they  go  on  breeding  very  late, 
and  I  have  found  their  nests  with  young  birds  half-fledged 
while  summer-pruning  apple  trees  in  August.     They  come 
into  my  garden  close  to  the  windows  in  May,  after  the 
ripening   seeds    of  the    myosotis    (forget-me-not)    in   the 
spring-bedding.     I  never  remember  seeing  a  goldfinch  at 
Aldington,  which    should    show    that    the    thistles    were 
well  under  control,  for  the  seed  is  a  great  attraction.     One 
often  hears  the  practice  of  allowing  thistles  to  run  to  seed 
condemned  as  criminal,  for  everybody  knows  that  each 
thistle-down,  carried  by  the  wind,  contains  a  seed,  and 
that  the  attachment  of  a  light  structure  of  plumes  is  one 
of   Nature's    methods    of   ensuring    dissemination.     But, 
in  Worcestershire,  it  is  always  asserted  that  thistle  seed 
will  not  germinate — I  am  referring  to  Cnicus  arvensis — 
and  it  is  said  that  a  prize  of  £50  offered  for  a  seedling 
thistle  remains  unclaimed  to  this  day.     I  failed,  myself, 
in  trying  to  obtain  young    plants  from  seeds  sown  in  a 
flower-pot,  and  I  have  never  seen  a  seedling  in   all  the 
thousands  of  miles  I  must  have  walked  over  yoimg  corn- 
fields when  my  men  were  hoeing. 

I  have  heard  an  interesting  story  about  rooks  which 
were  causing  a  farmer  much  damage  in  a  field  newly 
sown  with  peas.  He  erected  a  small  shelter  of  hurdles, 
from  which  to  shoot  them,  and  for  a  time  the  shelter 
was  sufficient  to  scare  them,  until  they  got  used  to  it;  but, 
when  he  entered  it  with  his  gun,  they  would  not  come  near. 
Thinking  to  deceive  their  sentinel,  watching  from  a 
tree,  he  took  a  companion  to  the  shelter,  who  remained 


BIRDS  261 

for  a  time  and  then  left,  but  still  no  rooks  came  near. 
The  farmer  then  took  two  companions,  and  presently 
sent  them  both  away.  The  arithmetic  was  too  much  for 
the  rooks,  and  the  scheme  succeeded.  He  concluded  that 
their  powers  of  enumeration  were  limited  to  counting 
"  two,"  and  that  "  three  "  was  beyond  them. 

Nightingales  are  scarce  in  the  Forest;  they  do  not 
like  the  solitude  of  the  great  woods,  apparently  preferring 
to  inhabit  roadsides  and  places  where  people  and  traffic 
are  constantly  passing.  They  are  specially  abundant  at 
the  foot  of  the  Cotswolds,  and  it  is  a  treat  to  cycle  steadily 
along  the  road  between  Broadway  and  Weston  Subedge 
on  a  summer  evening,  where  you  no  sooner  lose  the 
liquid  notes  of  one,  than  you  enter  the  territory  of  another, 
so  continuous  is  the  song  for  miles  together. 

In  severe  winters  wood-pigeons  did  much  damage  at 
Aldington  to  young  clover  a  few  inches  high;  they  roosted 
in  "  the  island  "  adjoining  my  garden.  When  they  first 
descended  they  alighted  in  the  wide-spreading  branches  of 
the  leafless  black  poplars,  where  they  could  see  all  round, 
and  reconnoitre  the  position;  then,  if  all  was  quiet,  in 
about  ten  minutes  they  took  to  the  shelter  of  the  fir  trees 
for  the  night  with  much  fluttering  and  beating  of  wings 
against  the  thick  branches.  They  devour  the  acorns 
in  the  Forest  very  greedily  in  the  autumn,  and  I  have  seen 
one  with  crop  so  full  that  on  my  approach  it  could  only 
with  difficulty  fly  away  to  a  short  distance.  I  found  it 
near  a  small  pond  where,  apparently,  it  had  been  drinking, 
and  the  acorns  had  expanded  to  an  inconvenient  extent. 

The  golden-crested  wren  was  a  common  bird  here  before 
the  severe  winter  of  1916-1917,  but  it  has  since  become 
comparatively  rare;  it  is  the  smallest  of  British  birds,  and 
could  often  be  seen  in  the  hedges  exploring  every  twig 
and  crevice  for  insects,  and  it  was  a  great  pleasure  to 
watch  the  nimble  movements  of  such  a  sweet  little  fairy. 
Its  first  cousin,  the  fire-crest,  which  is  almost  its  exact 
counterpart,  except  for  the  flame-coloured  crest,  is  much 
rarer  ;  and  I  only  remember  seeing  one  specimen,  to  which 


262  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

with  great  circumspection  I  managed  to  approach  quite 
closely,  in  the  wood  near  my  house. 

One  morning,  at  Aldington,  the  gardener  came  in  to 
say  there  was  a  hawk  in  the  greenhouse  near  the  rickyard; 
we  found  a  pane  of  glass  broken,  where  it  had  unintentionally 
entered  in  pursuit  of  a  spavrow;  the  hawk  was  uninjured, 
and  flew  away  quite  unconcernedly  on  the  opening  of  the 
door.  Another  hawk,  here  in  Burley,  was  found  dead 
near  my  drawing-room  bow-window.  It  had  dashed 
itself  against  a  pane  of  thick  plate-glass  while  in  pursuit 
of  a  starling,  I  think;  seeing  the  light  through  the  bow, 
it  had  not  recognized  the  glass,  and  must  have  collided  with 
it  in  the  act  of  swooping.  I  have  several  times  seen  hawks 
descend  like  a  flash  from  a  tree,  and  select  an  unlucky 
starling  from  a  flock;  one  blow  on  the  head  settled  the 
victim  before  I  could  reach  the  spot,  but  sometimes  the 
hawk  had  to  leave  its  prize  behind  it. 

I  was  watching  a  number  of  young  chicks  feeding  outside 
the  coops  containing  the  mother  hens,  when  there  suddenly 
arose  a  great  disturbance,  and  a  hawk,  which  had  pounced 
upon  a  chick,  was  seen  flying  away  with  it  in  its  talons. 
Its  flight  was  impeded  by  the  weight  of  the  chicken,  and  we 
gave  chase  shouting.  Flying  very  low  it  carried  its  prey 
to  the  further  side  of  the  meadow,  but,  seeing  that  it 
could  not  get  quickly  through  the  trees  there,  it  dropped 
the  chicken  and  escaped;  we  picked  up  the  poor  frightened 
infant,  which  was  not  injured,  and  restored  it  to  a  perturbed 
but  joyful  mother.  "  As  yaller  as  a  kite's  claw,"  is  a 
simile  one  hears  in  the  country,  and  it  is  common  to  both 
Hampshire  and  Worcestershire. 

I  never  saw  the  wheatear  in  Worcestershire,  but  here 
I  notice  several  pairs  on  the  moors  in  summer.  They 
were  once  very  plentiful  on  the  Sussex  Downs  and  seaside 
cliffs,  and  as  a  boy  walking  from  my  first  school  at 
Rottingdean  to  visit  my  people  at  Brighton,  from  Saturday 
to  Sunday  night,  I  have  passed  hundreds  of  traps  con- 
sisting of  rectangular  holes  cut  in  the  turf,  having  horse- 
hair nooses  inside,  set  by  the  shepherds  who  took  tliousands 


BIRDS  268 

of  wheatears  to  the  poulterers'  shops  in  the  town.  They 
were  then  considered  a  great  delicacy.  Other  professional 
bird-catchers  operated  with  large  clap-nets,  and  a  string 
attached  in  the  hands  of  the  catcher  some  distance  away. 
When  they  were  after  larks  a  revolving  mirror,  flashing  in 
the  smi,  was  considered  very  attractive;  I  suppose  the  birds 
approached  from  motives  of  curiosity.^  Many  thousands 
were  caught  for  the  London  and  Brighton  markets  for 
lark  pies  and  puddings,  a  wicked  bathos,  when  we  remember 
Wordsw^orth's  lines: 

"  There  is  madness  about  thee,  and  joy  divine 
In  that  song  of  tliine." 

One  severe  winter  an  immense  flock  of  golden  plovers 
haunted  my  land  and  neighbouring  farms  for  some  weeks, 
but  they  were  exceedingly  shy,  and  being  perfect  strangers, 
they  were  difficult  to  identify,  until  I  brought  one  down 
by  a  very  long  shot,  and  we  could  see  what  a  beautiful 
bird  it  was.  We  could  always  tell  when  really  severe  winter 
weather  was  coming,  by  the  flocks  of  wild  geese  that  passed 
overhead  in  V-shaped  formation.  They  were  said  to  be 
leaving  the  mouth  of  the  Humber  and  the  East  Coast  for 
the  warmer  shores  of  the  Bristol  Channel,  evidently  quite 
aware  that  the  latter,  within  the  influence  of  the  Gulf 
Stream,  were  more  desirable  as  winter-quarters.  Evesham 
is  in  the  direct  line  between  the  two  places,  and  we  often 
heard  them  calling  at  night  as  they  passed.  In  the  early 
spring  when  the  severe  weather  was  over  they  returned 
by  the  same  route. 

^  Mr.  H.  A.  Evans  sends  me  a  very  interesting  note  on  this  subject. 
He  refers  me  to  Shakespeare,  Henry  VIII.,  III.,  ii.,  282,  wiiere  Surrey, 
alluding  to  Wolsey,  says: 

"  If  we  live  thus  tamely, 
To  be  thus  jaded  by  a  piece  of  scarlet, 
Farewell  nobility;  let  liis  grace  go  forward. 
And  dare  us  with  his  cap  like  larks." 

The  verb  dare  here  used  is  quite  a  distinct  word  from  dare  =  to  venture  to  do. 
It  means  to  daze  or  render  helpless  with  the  sight  of  something.  To  dare 
larks  is  to  fascinate  or  daze  them  in  order  to  catch  them.  The  "  dare  " 
is  made  of  small  bits  of  looking-glass  fastened  on  scarlet  cloth.  S'lake- 
speare's  use  of  the  word  in  the  passage  quoted  is  evidently  an  allusion  to 
the  scarlet  biretta  of  the  cardinal.  In  Hogarth's  "  Distressed  Poet "  a 
"  dare  "  is  suspended  above  the  chimney-piece. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

PETS :  SUSIE— COCKY— TRUiMP— CHIPS— ^VENDY— TAFFY 

"  The  heart  is  hard  in  nature  and  unfit 
For  human  fellowship,  as  being  void 
Of  sympathy,  and  therefore  dead  alike 
To  love  and  friendship  both,  that  is  not  pleased 
With  sight  of  animals  enjoying  life. 
Nor  feels  their  happiness  augment  his  own." 

COWPEB. 

There  are  many  stories  of  the  affection  of  the  domestic 
goose  for  man,  and  I  knew  of  one  which  was  very  fond 
of  a  friend  of  mine.  The  goose  followed  him  like  a  dog, 
and  would  come  with  him  on  to  the  lawn  where  we  were 
playing  tennis,  and  sitting  close  beside  him  on  a  garden 
seat  with  great  dignity  would  apparently  watch  the  game 
with  interest.  My  friend  was  fond  of  unusual  pets;  he 
had  a  tame  hedgehog,  for  whom  he  made  a  most  com- 
fortable house  with  living-room  downstairs  and  sleeping 
apartment  on  the  first  floor.  His  pet's  name  was  Jacob, 
suggested  I  think  by  the  ladder  which  night  and  morning 
he  used  for  ascending  to  or  descending  from  liis  bedroom. 
Hedgehogs  have  a  bad  character  as  robbers  of  partridges' 
nests,  and  in  our  old  parish  accounts,  under  the  name  of 
"  urchins,"  we  find  entries  of  payments  for  their  destruction 
at  the  rate  of  4d.  apiece. 

My  younger  daughter  had  a  tame  duck,  Susie  by  name, 
who  gravely  waddled  behind  her  round  the  garden.  In 
summer  at  tea-time  Susie  would  much  enjoy  the  company 
under  the  wych-elm  on  the  lawn,  and  took  her  "  dish  of 
tea  "  out  of  the  saucer  in  the  antique  and  orthodox  manner. 
Another  amusing  pet  was  a  jackdaw  who  had  an  outdoor 
residence,  though  often  allowed  to  be  loose.  He  acquired 
an  exact  imitation  of  my  old  gardener's  chronic  cough,  and 

264 


PETS  265 

enjoyed  the  exhibition  of  his  aehievement  when  the  old  man 
was  working  near  the  cage,  somewhat  to  the  man's  annoy- 
ance. He  was  full  of  mischief,  and  was  not  allowed  in  the 
house;  but  he  once  got  in  at  my  study  window,  picked  out 
every  sheet  of  notcpaper  from  my  stationery  case,  and 
scattered  them  in  all  directions. 

A  still  more  accomplished  mimic,  a  lemon-crested 
cockatoo,  reproduced  the  voices  of  little  hungry  pigs.  He 
lived  indoors  on  a  stand  over  a  tray,  with  a  chain  round 
one  leg,  and  was  very  clever  at  mounting  and  descending 
by  the  combined  use  of  beak  and  claws,  without  com- 
plicating himself  with  his  chain.  He  got  loose  one  day,  and 
ascended  one  of  the  chestnut  trees,  and  a  volunteer  went 
up  after  him  by  a  ladder.  Cocky  resented  his  interference, 
flew  at  him  and  bit  his  finger  to  the  bone.  His  beak  was 
a  very  powerful  weapon,  and,  until  I  made  him  a  new  tray 
with  a  zinc-covered  ledge,  he  demolished  any  unprotected 
wood  or  even  furniture  within  reach. 

This  spring  we  had  a  blackbird's  nest  in  some  ivy  near 
the  house,  and  many  times  each  day  the  cock  bird  came  to 
watch  over  his  household,  and  discourse  sweet  music  from 
a  neighbouring  tree.  A  pair  of  jays  however  appeared,  and 
seemed  too  much  interested  in  the  nest  for  the  parents' 
comfort,  approaching  so  near  one  morning  that  first  the 
cock  blackbird,  and  then  the  hen  attacked  them  ;  and 
though  they  returned  again  during  the  day,  evidently  bent 
on  mischief,  the  courageous  parents  eventually  drove 
them  from  the  field,  and  they  were  seen  no  more.  Owing 
to  the  cutting  of  great  fir  woods  in  the  Forest  for  timber 
supplies  for  the  war,  jays  have  become  much  more  common 
here  than  formerly,  and  seem  to  have  migrated  from  their 
former  haunts  and  taken  to  the  beeches  and  oaks  in  the 
undisturbed  woods. 

Birds  as  a  rule  are  not  well  represented  in  books, 
though  the  drawing  is  more  correct  than  the  colouring. 
Examine  Randolph  Caldecott's  Sing  a  Song  for  Sixpence 
for  a  really  clever  sketch  of  the  four  and  twenty  blackbirds, 
every  one  a  characteristic  likeness,  and  a  different  attitude; 


266  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

and  look  at  his  rookery  in  Bracehrldge  Hall,  where,   in 
thi'ee  sketches  he  shows  some  equally  exact  rooks. 

I  always  walked  when  on  my  farming  rounds,  for  one 
of  the  first  lessons  I  learned  at  Alton  was  that  for  that 
purpose  "  one  walk  is  better  than  three  rides."  My 
predecessor  being  a  hunting  man  and  fond  of  horses, 
generally  rode,  but  for  careful  observation,  especially  in 
the  matter  of  plant  diseases,  one  wants  to  "  potter  about  " 
with  a  magnifying  glass  sometimes,  and  of  course  in 
entomology  and  ornithology  there  is  no  room  for  a  horse. 
One  of  the  remarks  made  by  my  men  about  me  on  my 
arrival  was,  "  His  mother  larned  him  to  walk,"  with  quite 
a  note  of  admiration  to  emphasize  it.  It  is  really  remark- 
able how  farmers  and  country  people  scorn  the  idea  of 
walking  either  for  pleasure  or  business,  if  "  a  lift  "  can  be 
had.  I  was  at  Cheltenham  with  a  brother,  and  finding 
we  had  done  our  business  in  good  time,  we  decided  to  walk 
to  the  next  station — Cleeve — instead  of  waiting  for  the 
train  at  Cheltenham.  We  asked  a  native  the  way,  who 
replied  with  great  contempt,  "  Cleeve  station  ?  Oh,  I 
wouldn't  walk  to  Cleeve  to  save  tuppence  !" 

One  of  our  ventures  in  the  way  of  pets  was  a  well-bred 
poodle;  he  was  very  amiable,  handsome,  and  clever, 
but  exceedingly  mischievous.  He  thought  it  great  fun 
to  pull  up  neatly  written  and  carefully  disposed  garden 
labels  and  carry  them  away  to  the  lawn,  for  which,  though 
a  nuisance,  he  was  forgiven;  but  his  next  achievement 
was  a  more  serious  matter.  Finding  his  way  about  the 
village  he  would  take  advantage  of  an  open  door  to  explore 
the  cottage  larders  and  when  a  chance  offered,  would  make 
off  with  half  a  pound  of  butter  or  a  cherished  piece  of 
meat  and  bring  his  plunder  to  my  house  in  triumph. 
He  was  succeeded  by  "  Trump,"  a  Dandle  Dinmont,  a 
very  charming  dog  with  a  delightful  disposition,  and 
perfectly  honest  until  my  elder  daughter  acquired  a  fox 
terrier,  "  Chips,"  well-bred  but  highly  nervous.  Chips 
was  a  born  sportsman  and  most  useful  so  long  as  he  con- 
fined his  activities  to  rats  and  was  busy  when  the  thrasiiing- 


TRUMP  AND  CHIPS  267 

machine  was  at  work,  but  when  he  took  to  corrupting 
Trump's  morals  he  required  watching.  Trump  would  be 
lying  quietly  in  the  house  or  garden  as  good  as  possible, 
when  the  insinuating  tempter  would  find  him,  whisper  a 
few  words  in  his  ear,  and  off  they  went  together.  It  was 
plainly  an  invitation,  and  later  a  dead  duckling  or  chicken 
would  show  where  they  had  spent  their  time.  Trump 
became  as  bad  as  Chips  and  had  to  be  given  away.  Chips 
was  very  sensitive  to  discordant  sounds,  he  must  have  had 
a  musical  ear ;  his  chief  aversion  was  the  sound  of  a  gong, 
the  beater  for  which  was  too  hard  and,  unless  very  care- 
fully manipulated,  produced  a  jangle.  My  hall  was  paved 
with  hexagonal  stone  sections  called  "  quarries,"  which 
appeared  to  intensify  the  discordance.  Chips  felt  it 
keenly,  and  would  stand  quite  rigid  for  some  minutes  until 
the  last  reverberation  and  its  effect  had  passed  off.  He 
was  uncertain  in  temper  and  disliked  some  of  the  villagers. 
An  old  man  complained  that  he  had  been  bitten,  and  told 
me  with  great  feeling,  "  Folks  say  that  if  ever  the  dog 
goes  mad,  I  shall  go  mad  too."  I  had  much  difficulty  in 
appeasing  him  and  assuring  him  that  there  was  no  truth 
in  the  statement. 

How  shall  I  do  justice  to  the  infinite  variety  of  "  Wendy," 
the  dainty  little  Chinese  princess  who  now  rules  my  house- 
hold ?  There  are  people  who  cannot  see  in  an  old  Wor- 
cester tea-cup  and  saucer  the  eighteenth-century  beauty, 
fastidiously  sipping,  what  she  called  in  the  same  language 
as  the  Aldington  cottager  of  to-day,  her  dish  of  "  tay." 
There  are  people  who  regard  with  indifference  an  ancient 
chair,  except  as  an  object  to  be  sat  upon,  and  who  fail  to 
realize  its  historical  charm,  or  even  the  credit  due  to  the 
maker  of  a  piece  of  furniture  that  has  survived  two 
hundred  and  fifty  spring  cleanings. 

And  there  are  people  who  can  see  nothing  in  the 
Pekingese,  nothing  of  the  distinction  and  "  the  claims  of 
long  descent,"  nothing  of  the  possibilities  of  transmigration, 
or  of  present  ever-changing  and  human  moods.  Such  are 
the  people  who  suppose  that  the  "  dulness  of  the  country," 


268  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


and  the  attraction  of  the  shams  and  inanities  of  the 
picture  palace  induced  the  starving  agricultural  labourer 
willingly  to  exchange  the  blue  vault  of  heaven  for  the 
leaden  pall  of  London  fogs,  cool  green  pastures  for  the 
scorching  pavement,  and  the  fragrant  shelter  of  the  hedge- 
row blossoms  for  the  stifling  slum  and  the  crowded  factory. 

There  is  nothing  of  the  democrat  about  Wendy;  watch 
her  elevate  an  already  tip-tilted  nose  at  displeasing  food, 
or  a  tainted  dish,  and  notice  her  look  of  abject  contempt 
for  the  giver  as  she  turns  away  in  disgust.  No  lover  of 
the  Pekingese  should  be  without  a  charming  little  book 
Some  Pekingese  Pets  by  M.  N.  Daniel,  with  delightful 
sketches  by  the  author,  in  which  we  are  told  that,  "  Until 
the  year  1860,  so  far  as  is  known,  no  '  Foreign  Devil '  had 
ever  seen  one  of  these  Imperial  Lion  Dogs.  In  that  year, 
however,  the  sacking  of  the  Imperial  Palace  at  Pckin  took 
place,  and  amongst  the  treasures  looted  and  brought  to 
England  were  five  little  Lion  or  Sun  Dogs." 

The  author  also  says:  "  It  is  certain  that  the  same  type 
of  Lion  Dog  as  our  Western  Pekingese  must  have  existed 
in  China  for  at  least  a  thousand  years:  that  they  were 
regarded  as  sacred  or  semi-sacred  is  proved  by  the  Idols 
and  Kylons  (many  of  them  known  to  be  at  least  a  thousand 
years  old)  representing  the  same  type  of  Lion  Dog."  I 
have  an  old  Nankin  blue  teapot,  the  lid  of  which  is  sur- 
mounted by  one  of  these  Kylons. 

I  can  only  describe  Wendy's  moods  and  character- 
istics by  giving  a  bare  catalogue:  she  is  mirthful,  hopeful, 
playful,  despairing,  bored,  defiant,  roguish,  cunning, 
penitent, sensitive,  aggressive,  offended,  reproachful,  angry, 
pleased,  trustful,  loving,  disobedient,  determined,  puzzled, 
faithful,  naughty,  dignified,  impudent,  proud,  luxurious, 
fearless,  disappointed,  docile,  fierce,  independent,  mis- 
chievous; and  she  often  illustrates  the  rhyme: 

"  The  dog  will  come  when  he's  called, 
And  the  cat  will  stay  away, 
But  the  Pekingese  will  do  as  lie  please 
Whatever  you  do  or  say." 


WENDY  269 

Wend)''  is  cat-like  in  some  of  her  habits,  prefers  fish  to 
meat,  sleeps  all  day  in  wet  weather  but  is  lively  towards 
night,  is  very  particular  about  her  toilet  and  washes  her 
face  with  moistened  paws  passed  over  her  ears.  She  is  very 
sensitive  to  the  weather,  loves  the  sun,  lying  stretched 
at  full  length  on  the  hot  gravel  so  that  she  can  enjoy 
the  comforting  warmth  to  her  little  body.  She  is  wretched 
in  a  thunderstorm,  shivering  and  taking  refuge  beneath 
a  table  or  sofa;  then  she  comes  to  me  for  sympathy, 
and  lies  on  my  knee,  covered  with  a  rug  or  a  news- 
paper, but  after  a  bad  storm  she  is  not  herself  for  many 
hours.  Anyone  who  does  not  know  her  may  think  the 
moods  I  have  detailed  an  impossible  category,  but  there 
is  not  one  which  we  have  not  personally  witnessed  again 
and  again,  and  no  one  can  see  her  loving  caresses  of  my 
wife  without  being  assured  of  the  soul  that  animates  her 
mind  and  body. 

Wendy  is  never  allowed  to  "  sit  in  damp  clothes,"  or 
even  with  feet  wet  with  rain  or  dew,  and  looks  very 
reproachful  if  not  attended  to  at  once  with  a  rough  towel 
on  coming  indoors.  "  Why  don't  you  dry  me  ?"  is  exactly 
the  expression  her  looks  convey.  She  has  a  lined  basket, 
on  four  short  legs  to  keep  her  from  draughts  when  sleeping, 
but  she  is  often  uneasy  alone  at  night,  evidently  "  seeing 
things,"  and,  in  Worcestershire  language,  finding  it 
"  unked,"  so  she  is  now  always  allowed  a  night-light. 

It  is  said  that  the  dog's  habit  of  turning  round  several 
times  before  settling  to  sleep  is  a  survival  from  remote 
ages  when  they  made  themselves  a  comfortable  bed  by 
smoothing  doAvn  the  grass  around  them,  but  I  am  quite 
sure  that  Wendy  does  the  same  thing  to  get  her  coat 
unruffled,  and  in  the  best  condition  to  protect  her  from 
draughts.  She  likes  to  lie  curled  up  into  a  circle,  so  that 
her  hind  paws  may  come  under  her  chin  for  warmth, 
and  support  her  head,  as  her  neck  is  so  short  that  without 
a  pillow  of  some  sort  she  could  not  rest  in  comfort;  as  an 
alternative,  she  will  sometimes  arrange  the  rug  in  her 
sleeping  basket  to  act  in  the  same  way. 


270  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


We  had  various  cobs  and  ponies  from  time  to  time; 
quite  a  good  pony  could  be  bought  at  six  months  old  for 
about  £12,  and  one  of  the  best  we  had  was  Taffy,  from  a 
drove  of  Welsh.  Returning  from  Evesham  Station  with 
my  man  we  passed  a  labourer  with  something  in  a  hamper 
on  his  shoulder  that  rattled,  just  as  we  reached  the  Alding- 
ton turning;  Taffy  started,  swerved  across  the  road  in 
the  narrowest  part,  and  jumped  through  the  hedge,  taking 
cart  and  all ;  we  found  ourselves  in  a  wheat-field,  but  were 
not  overturned,  and  reached  a  gate  in  safety  none  the 
worse. 

On  an  old  May  Day  (May  12)  I  was  at  Bretforton 
Manor  playing  tennis  and  shooting  rooks.  About 
10.30  p.m.  the  cart  and  Taffy  were  brought  round;  I  had 
all  my  things  in  and  was  about  to  mount  when,  the  pony 
fidgeting  to  be  off,  my  friend's  groom  caught  at  the  rein, 
but  he  had  omitted  to  buckle  it  on  one  side  of  the  bit. 
In  an  instant  pony  and  trap  had  disappeared,  and  the 
man  was  lying  in  the  drive  with  a  broken  leg.  We  had 
to  carry  him  home  on  a  door,  and  then  went  in  search  of 
the  pony,  expecting  every  moment  to  find  it  and  the  trap 
in  a  ditch;  about  half  a  mile  from  Aldington  we  met  my 
own  man  who  had  come  in  search  of  my  remains.  He 
told  us  that  the  pony  and  trap  were  quite  safe  and  un- 
injured. The  clever  animal  had  trotted  the  whole  distance, 
over  two  miles,  with  the  reins  dragging  behind  him,  taken 
the  turning  from  the  highroad,  and  again  at  my  gate,  and 
pulled  up  in  front  of  the  house,  where  someone  passing  saw 
him  and  brought  my  man  out  to  the  rescue. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

BUTTERFLIES— MOTHS— WASPS 

"  How  like  a  rainbow,  sparkling  as  a  dewdrop, 
Glittering  as  gold,  and  lively  as  a  swallow. 
Each  left  his  grave-shroud  and  in  rapture  winged  him 
Up  to  the  heavens." 

Anon. 

I  HAVE  always  been  fascinated  by  the  beauty  of  butter- 
flies and  moths,  and  I  think  I  began  collecting  when  I  was 
about  eleven,  as  I  remember  having  a  net  when  I  was  at 
school  at  Rottingdean.  My  first  exciting  capture  was  a 
small  tortoiseshell,  and  I  was  much  disappointed  when 
I  discovered  that  it  was  quite  a  common  insect.  In  1917 
some  nettles  here  were  black  with  the  larva?  of  this  species, 
but  I  think  they  must  have  been  nearly  all  visited  by  the 
ichneumons,  which  pierce  the  skin,  laying  their  eggs  in 
the  living  body  of  the  larva,  as  the  butterflies  were  not 
specially  common  later.  I  was,  however,  fortunate  in  iden- 
tifying a  specimen  of  the  curious  variety  figured  in  Newman's 
British  Butterflies,  variety  2,  from  one  in  Mr.  Bond's 
collection;  it  has  a  dark  band  crossing  the  middle  of  the 
upper  wings,  but,  though  interesting,  it  is  not  so  handsome 
as  the  type.  I  did  not  catch  this  specimen,  as  I  do  not 
like  killing  butterflies  now,  but  I  had  ample  leisure  to 
observe  it  quite  closely  on  the  haulm  of  potatoes.  It  was 
decidedly  smaller  than  the  type. 

The  old  garden  at  Aldington  in  the  repose  of  a  June 
evening  was  a  place  of  fragrant  joy  from  honeysuckle  on 
poles  and  arches,  and  just  as  the  light  was  fading  the  huge 
privet  hawk-moths,  with  quivering  wings  and  extended 
probosces,  used  to  sip  the  honey  from  the  long  blossoms, 
I  could  catch  them  in  a  net,  but  these  specimens  were 

271 


272  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


nearly  all  damapred  from  their  energetic  flight  among  the 
flowers,  and  perfect  ones  are  easy  to  rear  from  the  larvae, 
feeding  in  autumn  on  privet  in  the  hedges. 

Later  in  the  summer  the  Ghost  Swift  appeared  about 
twilight,  the  white  colour  of  the  male  making  it  very 
conspicuous.  Twilight  at  Aldington  is  called  "  owl  light," 
and  moths  of  all  kinds  are  *'  bob-owlets,"  from  their 
uneven  flight  when  trying  to  evade  the  owls  in  pursuit. 
We  often  see  these  birds  "  hawking  "  at  nightfall  in  my 
meadows  round  the  edge  of  the  Forest  after  moths. 

The  martagon  lily  flourished  in  the  Aldington  garden, 
and  when  they  were  blooming  the  overpowering  scent 
was  particularly  attractive  to  moths  of  the  Plusia  genus, 
including   the    Burnished  Brass,  the  Golden   Y,  and   the 
Beautiful  Golden  Y,  all  exhibiting  very  distinctive  markings 
of  burnished  gold;  and    other    Noctuce  in  great  variety. 
The    latter    are    best    taken    by    "  sugaring " — painting 
patches  of  mixed  beer  and  sugar  on  a  series  of  tree  trunks, 
and  making  several  rounds  at  twilight  with  a  lantern  and 
a  cyanide   bottle.     We    had    a  sugaring  range  of  about 
seventy  pollard  withies  by  the  brook  side,  and  being  well 
sheltered,  it  was  such  a  favourite  place  for  moths,  that  it 
was  often  difficult  to  select   from  each  patch,  swarming 
with  sixty  or  seventy  specimens,  those  really  worth  taking. 
At  sugaring  moths  are  found  in  a  locality  where  they  are 
never    seen    at    other    times,    and    rarities    occur    quite 
unexpectedly.     I  took  some    specimens    of  Cymatophora 
ocularis   (figure  of    80).      Newman    says:    "  It   is   always 
esteemed  a  rarity,"  and  mentions  Worcester  as  a  locality. 
Mamestra  abjecta  was  quite  a  common  catch,  of  which 
Newman  writes:  "It  seems  to  be  very  local,  and  so  im- 
perfectly  known   that    the    recorded    habitats    must   be 
received  with  great  doubt;  it  is  certainly  abundant  on  the 
banks  of  the  Thames,  near  Gravesend,  and  also  on  the 
Irish  coast,  near  Waterford." 

The  marks  of  sugaring  remain  on  tree  trunks  for  many 
years.  I  lately  saw  the  faint  remains  on  about  sixty  trees 
in  Set  Thorns  plantation,  in  the  Forest,  which  a  friend  and 


MOTHS  273 

I  painted  on  nearly  forty  years  ago.  This  friend  was 
fortunate  in  capturing  the  black  variety  of  the  White 
Admiral,  in  which  the  white  markings  are  entirely  absent 
on  the  upper  side;  and,  thirty  years  later,  his  son  took 
another  near  Burley.  The  son  also  caught  a  Camberwell 
Beauty  on  one  of  his  sugared  patches  in  the  day-time.  I 
believe  this  to  be  the  only  recorded  instance  of  the  occur- 
rence of  this  rare  and  beautiful  insect  in  the  Forest. 

The  Hornet  Clearwing  {Sesia  Apiformis)  is -a  very  interest- 
ing moth,  and  it  was  common  at  Aldington;  the  larva  feeds 
on  the  wood  of  the  black  poplar.  The  colouring  of  the 
moth  so  resembles  the  hornet,  that  at  first  sight  it  is  easily 
mistaken  for  the  latter.  It  is  an  excellent  example  of 
"  mimicry,"  whereby  a  harmless  insect  acquires  the  dis- 
tinctive appearance  of  a  harmful  one,  and  so  secures 
immimity  from  the  attacks  of  its  natural  enemies. 

The  larva  of  the  Death's  Head  was  not  uncommon  at 
Aldington  and  Badsey  on  potatoes;  I  had  a  standing  offer 
of  threepence  each  for  any  that  the  village  children  could 
bring  me.  These  large  caterpillars  require  very  careful 
handling,  and  I  fear  the  children  were  not  gentle  enough 
with  them,  as  I  only  had  one  perfect  specimen  moth  from 
all  the  larvae  they  brought. 

One  of  my  hop-pickers  captured  and  presented  me  with 
a  very  fine  specimen  of  the  Convolvulus  Hawk-moth 
at  Aldington;  they  were  generally  comparatively  common 
that  year  (1901)  and  a  collector  took  no  less  than  seventeen 
in  a  few  days  in  the  public  garden  at  Bournemouth. 

The  Clouded  Yellow  butterfly,  whose  appearance  is 
very  capricious,  occurred  one  summer  in  Worcestershire 
in  considerable  numbers;  it  is  strong  on  the  wing  and 
could  easily  reach  the  Midlands  in  fine  w^eather  from  the 
south  of  England,  where  it  is  more  often  seen.  Those  I 
saw  were  flying  high  over  clover  fields,  apparently  in  a 
hurry  to  get  further  north-west. 

The  Marbled  White  is  a  somewhat  local  butterfly; 
there  was  a  spot  along  the  Terrace  on  Cleeve  Hill,  near 

North  Littleton    and  Cleeve  Prior,  where,  at   the  proper 

18 


274  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


time,  this  insect  was  plentiful,  but  I  never  saw  it  anywhere 
else  in  the  neighbourhood. 

One  of  the  entomological  prizes  of  the  New  Forest  is 
the  Purple  Emperor;  it  is  impossible  to  do  justice  to  the 
wonderful  sheen  of  its  powerful  wings.  It  inhabits  the 
tops  of  lofty  oaks,  but  does  not  disdain  to  come  down  for 
a  drink  of  water,  sometimes  from  a  muddy  pool,  or  even 
to  feast  on  dead  vermin  which  the  keepers  have  destroyed. 

The  Comma,  so  called  from  the  C-mark  on  the  under 
side  of  the  hind  wings,  is  fairly  plentiful  in  Worcestershire 
and  Herefordshire  in  the  hop-districts,  for  the  hop  is  its 
food  plant ;  but  it  is  curious  that,  with  the  abundance  of 
hops  in  Kent,  Sussex,  and  Hants,  it  is  quite  a  rare  insect 
in  the  south  of  England.  The  ragged  edge  of  its  hind 
wings  is  probably  an  arrangement  to  baffle  birds  in  pursuit, 
offering  more  difficulty  to  securing  a  sure  hold  than  is 
afforded  by  the  even  margin  of  the  hind  wings  of  most 
butterflies. 

In  some  years  wasps  w^re  exceedingly  troublesome  at 
Aldington,  and  fruit  picking  became  a  hazardous  business. 
One  of  my  men  ploughed  up  a  nest  in  an  open  field,  and 
was  badly  stung,  though  the  horses,  being  further  from 
the  nest  when  turned  up,  escaped.  It  is  quite  necessary 
to  destroy  any  nests  on  or  near  land  where  fruit  is  grown, 
as  the  insects  increase  in  numbers  at  a  surprising  rate, 
and  they  travel  great  distances  after  food  for  the  grubs. 
I  had  an  instructive  walk  over  the  fruit  farm  of  my  son- 
in-law,  Mr.  C.  S.  Martin,  of  Dunnington  Heath,  near 
Alcester,  with  his  cousin,  Mr.  William  Martin,  who  is 
extraordinarily  clever  at  locating  the  nests.  He  quickly 
recognizes  a  line  of  flight  in  which  numbers  of  wasps  can  be 
seen  going  backwards  and  forwards,  in  a  well-defined 
cross-country  track,  follows  it  up  and  locates  the  nest  a 
long  distance  from  where  he  first  perceived  the  line.  In 
this  way  during  our  walk  he  found  a  dozen  or  more  nests. 
In  the  evening,  when  the  inmates  were  at  home,  they  were 
treated  with  a  strong  solution  of  cyanide  of  potassium 
to   destroy  the  winged   insects;    and   the   next  day  the 


WASPS  275 

nests  were  dug  out  and  the  grubs  destroyed,  which  other- 
wise would  become  perfect  wasps. 

Lately  it  has  become  a  custom  to  pay  a  half-penny 
each  for  all  queen  wasps  in  the  spring,  but  Mr.  C.  S.  Martin, 
who  had  many  years'  experience  on  the  fruit  plantations 
of  the  Toddington  Orchard  Company,  extending  to  about 
700  acres,  as  well  as  on  his  own  plantations  at  Dunnington, 
writes  to  me  as  follows  on  the  subject  : 

"  To  catch  the  queens  in  the  spring  is  to  my  mind  a 
waste  of  time,  and  I  discontinued  paying  for  their  capture, 
as  the  number  visible  in  the  spring  appeared  to  bear  no 
relation  to  the  resulting  summer  nests.  In  the  first  place, 
the  number  of  queens  in  spring  is  always  greatly  in  excess 
of  the  numbers  of  nests,  and  to  attempt  to  catch  all  the 
queens  is  a  hopeless  job.  As  a  rule,  I  don't  think  one 
per  cent,  ever  gets  as  far  as  a  nest  unless  the  weather  con- 
ditions are  very  favourable.  Heavy  rain,  when  the 
broods  begin,  may  easily  wipe  out  99  per  cent.,  and  only 
those  on  a  dry  bank  will  survive.  To  pay  a  halfpenny 
per  queen  may  be  equivalent  to  the  payment  of  four  and 
twopence  per  nest  !" 

Referring  to  the  payment  of  school-children  for  the 
destruction  of  white  butterflies  he  writes : 

"  The  white  butterfly  is  extraordinarily  prolific,  and  to 
catch  a  few  in  the  garden  is  a  complete  waste  of  time. 
Again,  weather  conditions  are  largely  responsible  for  the 
occurrence  of  a  bad  attack,  and  the  only  possible  time 
to  reduce  the  plague  is  in  the  caterpillar  stage,  with 
hellebore  powder,  or  one  of  the  proprietary  remedies, 
applied  to  the  yoimg  plants.  Scientists  recommend  the 
catching  of  queen  wasps,  and  also  butterflies,  but  I  regard 
this  as  a  case  where  science  is  not  strictly  practical." 

There  is,  of  course,  the  danger,  too,  that  children  will 
not  recognize  the  difference  between  the  female  of  the 
Orange  Tip  butterfly,  which  is  practically  colourless,  and 
the  cabbage  whites,  and  it  would  be  worse  than  a  crime 
to  destroy  so  joyous  and  welcome  a  creature,  whose 
advent  is  one  of  the  pleasantest  signs  that  summer  is 


276  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

nigh  at  hand.  I  have  watched  these  fairy  sprites  dancing 
along  the  hedge  sides  at  Aldington  year  by  year,  and 
in  May  they  were  extraordinarily  abundant  here,  happily 
coursing  round  and  round  my  meadow,  and  chasing  each 
other  in  the  sunshine.  The  Orange  Tip  is  quite  innocent 
of  designs  upon  the  homely  cabbage,  the  food-plant  of 
the  caterpillar  being  Cardamine  pratensis  (the  cuckoo 
flower),  which  Shakespeare  speaks  of  so  prettily  in  the 
lines  : 

"  When  daisies  pied  and  violets  blue, 
And  lady-smocks  all  silver-white." 

Possibly  Hood  was  thinking  of  the  Orange  Tip  when 
he  wrote  the  lines  that  seem  so  well  suited  to  them; 

"  These  be  the  pretty  genii  of  the  flowers 
Daintily  fed  with  honey  and  pure  dew." 

A  story  is  told  of  an  undergraduate  who  united  the  hind 
wings  of  a  butterfly  to  the  body  and  fore  wings  of  one  of  a 
different  species,  and,  thinking  to  puzzle  Professor  West- 
wood,  then  the  entomological  authority  at  Oxford,  asked 
if  the  Professor  could  tell  him  "  what  kind  of  a  bug  "  it  was. 
"  Yes,"  was  the  immediate  reply — "  a  humbug  !" 

One  of  my  schoolfellows,  a  boy  about  eleven,  at  Rotting- 
dean  school,  and  quite  a  novice  at  butterfly  collecting, 
met  a  professional  "  naturalist  "  on  the  Warren  at  Folke- 
stone, who  inquired  what  he  had  taken.  "  Only  a  few 
whites,"  said  the  boy.  The  man  looked  at  them  and, 
eventually,  they  negotiated  an  exchange,  the  boy  accepting 
three  or  four  others  for  an  equal  number  of  the  whites. 
On  reaching  home  he  found  that  he  had  parted  with 
specimens  of  the  rare  Bath  White,  Pieris  daplidice,  for 
some  quite  common  butterflies.  The  Bath  White  is  not 
recognized  as  a  British  species,  Newman  supposing  the 
specimens  taken  in  this  country  to  have  been  blown  over 
or  migrated  from  the  northern  coast  of  France,  as  they 
have  been  rarely  met  with  away  from  the  shores  of  Kent 
and  Sussex. 

It  is  surprising  to  find  so  many  people  who  seem  unable 


BUTTERFLIES  277 


to  exercise  their  powers  of  observation  to  the  extent  of 
noticing  the  butterflies  they  daily  pass  in  the  garden,  or 
along  the  roads.  One  would  expect  that  the  marvellous 
colouring  of  even  our  common  butterflies  would  arrest 
attention,  and  that  interest  in  the  names  and  life-history 
would  follow. 

In  June  in  the  Forest  the  rather  alarming  stag-beetle 
is  to  be  seen  on  the  wing  on  a  warm  evening;  though  really 
harmless,  its  size  and  habit  of  buzzing  round  frightens 
people  who  are  not  acquainted  with  its  ways.  They  are 
called  locally,  "  pinch-bucks,"  as  their  horns  resemble 
the  antlers  of  a  buck,  and  they  can  nip  quite  hard  by 
pressing  them  together.  I  once  saw  a  fight  between  a 
stag-beetle  and  a  toad,  it  had  evidently  been  proceeding 
for  some  time  as  both  combatants  were  exhausted,  but 
neither  had  gained  any  special  advantage. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

CYCLING— PAGEANTS  OF  THE  ROADS— ROADSIDE 

CREATURES  — HARMONIOUS     BUILDING  — COLLECTING     OLD 

FURNITURE  AND  CHINA 

"I  may  soberly  confess  that  sometimes,  walking  abroad  after  my  studies, 
I  have  been  almost  mad  with  pleasure — the  effect  of  nature  upon  my  soul 
havinjj  been  inexpressibly  ravishing  and  beyond  what  I  can  convey  to  you." 
— John  Inglesant. 

I  SUPPOSE  that  the  bicycle  has  given,  and  gives,  as  much 
pleasure  to  fairly  active  people  as  any  machine  ever 
invented.  I  must  have  been  one  of  the  first  cyclists  in 
England,  as  my  experience  dates  from  the  days  when 
bicycles  were  first  imported  from  France.  The  high 
bicycle  appeared  later,  but  the  earlier  machines  were 
about  the  height  of  the  present  safety,  with  light  wooden 
wheels  and  iron  tyres.  The  safety,  with  pneumatic  tyres, 
did  not  arrive  till  nearly  thirty  years  later,  and  it  was  the 
latter  invention  that  brought  about  the  popularity  of 
cycling. 

The  difference  between  cycling  and  walking  has  been 
stated  thus:  "  When  a  man  walks  a  mile  he  takes  on  an 
average  2,263  steps,  lifting  the  weight  of  his  body  with 
each  step.  When  he  rides  a  bicycle  of  the  average  gear 
he  covers  a  mile  with  the  equivalent  of  627  steps,  bears  no 
burden,  and  covers  the  same  distance  in  less  than  one 
third  of  the  time." 

People  constantly  tell  me  that  cycling  is  all  very  well 
for  getting  from  place  to  place,  but  otherwise  they  don't 
care  about  it,  which  I  can  only  account  for  by  supposing 
that  they  find  it  a  labour  more  or  less  irksome,  or  that 
they  have  never  developed  their  perceptive  faculties,  and 
have  no  real  sympathy  with  the  life  of  woods  and  fields 
or  the  spirit  of  the  ancient  farms  and  villages. 

Cycling  to  me  is  a  very  easy  and  pleasant  exercise,  but 

278 


CYCLING  279 


it  is  far  more  than  that;  it  is   like  passing  through  an 
endless    picture-gallery  filled  with  masterpieces  of    form 
and  colour.     The  roads  of  England  not  only  present  these 
delights  to  the  physical  sense,  but  they  stir  the  imagina- 
tion    with    historic     visions    from    the    earliest     times. 
There  are  the  ancient  camps,   now  silent  and  deserted, 
which  become  at  the  bidding  of  fancy   peopled  with  the 
unkempt  and  savage  British,  and  later  with  their   well- 
disciplined  and  well-equipped  Roman  conquerers:  archers 
and  men  in  armour  appear;  pilgrims'  processions  such  as 
we  read  of  in  Chaucer;  knights  and  ladies  on  their  stately 
steeds.     There  are  the  ghosts  of  royal  progresses,  kings 
and  queens,  and  wonderful  pageantry  gorgeous  in  array; 
decorously    ambling     cardinals'  and     abbots    with    their 
trains  of  servitors;  hawking  parties  with  hawks  and  attend- 
ants; soldiers  after  Sedgemoor  in  pursuit  of  Monmouth's 
ill-fated  followers;  George  IV.  and   his  gay  courtiers  on 
the  Brighton   road;    beaux   and   beauties  in  their  well- 
appointed  carriages  bound  for  Tunbridge  Wells,  Chelten- 
ham,   or   Bath;    splendid   teams   with    crowded   coaches, 
and  great  covered  waggons  laden  with  merchandise;     the 
highwayman  at  dusk  in  quest  of  belated  travellers,  and 
companies  of  farmers  and  cattle-dealers  riding  home  from 
market  together  for  safety. 

I  often  see  a  vision  here  in  the  ancient  Forest  tracks 
of  a  gang  of  wild  and  armed  smugglers,  and  among  them 
still  more  savage-looking  foreign  sailors.  They  have  two 
or  three  Forest  trucks,  made  especially  to  fit  ^he  ruts 
in  the  little-used  tracks,  laden  with  casks  of  spirits  and 
drawn  by  rough  Forest  ponies.  I  can  hear  the  shouts 
of  the  drivers  as  they  urge  them  forward,  and  I  can  see 
the  steaming  sides  of  the  ponies  in  the  misty  moonlight  of 
a  winter  night.  The  spirits  were  landed  at  Poole  or 
Christchurch,  and  they  are  on  their  way  to  Burley  where, 
under  the  old  house  I  bought  with  my  land,  there  is  still 
the  cellar,  then  cleverly  concealed,  where  the  casks  were 
stored  in  safety  from  the  watchful  eyes  of  the  Excise;  a 
quaint  old  place  built  of  the  local  rock. 


2S0  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


There  is  one  vision  of  the  roads  in  the  Forest  which 
nobody  who  saw  it  can  ever  forget:  the  companies 
of  infantry,  the  serious  officers,  the  ruddy-faced  men,  and 
the  then  untried  guns  of  the  glorious  Seventh  Division, 
on  their  route  marches,  with  fife  and  drum  to  cheer  the 
way  with  the  now  classic  strains  of  "  It's  a  long,  long  way 
to  Tipperary."  There  are  spots  where  I  met  them  in  the 
autumn  of  1914  that  I  never  pass  without  feeling  that  for 
all  time  these  places  are  sacred  to  the  memory  of  heroes. 

Besides  the  fancied  pageantry  of  the  roads  there  are 
the  natural  objects  of  the  woods,  the  lanes,  and  the  fields; 
the  blossoming  hawthorn  and  the  wild  roses  trailing  from 
the  hedges,  the  hares  and  rabbits,  the  birds,  the  butter- 
flies, and  the  flowers;  sturdy  teams  with  the  time-honoured 
ploughs  and  harrows,  the  sowing  of  the  seed,  the  young 
gleaming  corn,  the  scented  hayfields  or  the  golden  harvest; 
every  man  at  his  honourable  labour,  happy  children  dash- 
ing out  of  school;  noble  timber,  hazel  coppices,  grey  old 
villages;  cattle  in  the  pastures,  or  enjoying  the  cool  waters 
of  shallow  pools  or  brooks;  sheep  in  the  field  or  the  fold,  the 
shepherd  and  his  dog;  apple  blossom,  or  the  ripe  and 
ruddy  fruit,  bowery  hop-gardens,  mellow  old  cottages, 
country-folk  going  to  market,  fat  beasts,  cows  and  calves, 
carriers'  carts  full  of  gossips. 

Pictures,  real  pictures,  everywhere,  endless  in  variety. 
Steady  !  go  steady  past  these  woods;  see  the  blue  haze 
of  wild  hyacinths,  the  cool  carpet  of  primroses.  Look  at 
the  cowslips  yellowing  that  meadow;  do  you  see  the  heron 
standing  patiently  in  the  marsh  ?  Look  overhead,  watch 
the  hovering  hawk;  hark !  there  is  the  nightingale. 
Stop  a  moment  at  the  bridge;  can  you  see  the  speckled 
beauties  with  their  heads  upstream  ?  Thank  God  for  the 
blue,  blue  sky !  thank  God  for  the  glory  of  the  sun,  for  the 
lights  and  shadows  beneath  the  trees  !  Thank  God  for 
the  live  air,  the  growth,  the  life  of  plant  and  tree,  the 
fragrance  and  the  beauty  !     Thank  God  for  rural  England  ! 

One  can  tell  the  most  ancient,  apart  from  the  scientifi- 
cally made  Roman  roads,   by  the  way  they  were  worn 


ROADSIDE  CREATURES  281 


down  from  the  original  level,  espeeially  on  hillsides,  by 
the  constant  and  heavy  traffic.  Every  passing  wheel 
abraded  a  portion  of  the  surface,  and  the  next  rain  carried 
the  debris  down  the  hill,  forming  in  time  a  deep  depression, 
between  banks  at  the  sides,  often  many  feet  deep,  and 
giving  the  impression  of  the  track  having  been  purposely 
dug  out  to  lessen  the  gradient.  In  places  where  the  road 
became  impassable  from  long  use  and  wet,  deviations  on 
either  side  were  made,  so  that  ten  or  a  dozen  disused  tracks 
can  be  seen  side  by  side,  often  extending  laterally  quite 
a  long  distance  from  the  existing  road  in  unenclosed 
surroundings. 

A  great  charm  of  the  bicycle  is  its  noiselessness  which, 
with  its  speed,  affords  peeps  of  wild  creatures  under 
natural  conditions.  Cycling  on  the  Cotswolds  I  came 
upon  two  hares  at  a  boxing  match;  they  were  so  absorbed 
that  I  was  able  to  get  quite  close,  and  it  was  amusing 
to  watch  them  standing  upright  on  their  hind  legs,  and 
sparring  with  their  little  fists  like  professionals.  I  have 
often  seen  the  pursuit  of  a  rabbit  by  a  persistent  stoat; 
the  rabbit  has  little  chance  of  escape,  as  the  stoat  can 
follow  it  underground  as  well  as  over;  finally  the  rabbit 
appears  to  be  paralyzed  with  fright,  lies  down  and  makes 
no  further  effort.  Weasels,  which  probably  make  up  for 
depredations  of  game  by  their  destruction  of  rats, 
often  cross  the  road,  and  sometimes  whole  families  may 
be  seen  playing  by  the  roadside.  I  was  shooting  in 
Surrey  when  I  once  had  an  excellent  view  of  an  ermine — 
the  stoat  in  its  winter  dress.  I  did  not  recognize  it  until 
it  was  out  of  sight,  but  I  should  not  have  shot  it  in  any 
case,  for  the  ermine  is  a  very  rare  occurrence  in  the  south 
of  England.  I  believe  that  further  north  it  is  not  unusual, 
as  is  natural  where  the  light  colour  would  protect  it 
from  observation  in  snow,  but  as  far  south  as  Surrey 
this  would  be  a  danger,  and  I  should  scarcely  have  noticed 
it  in  the  thick  undergrowth  had  it  been  normal  in  colour. 

We  had  a  squirrel's  nest,  or  "  drey,"  as  it  is  called,  near 
my  house  last  year,  and  the  squirrels  have  been  about  my 


282  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


lawn  and  the  Forest  trees  ever  since.  It  was  charming, 
in  the  summer,  to  watch  them  nibbhng  the  fleshy  galls 
produced  on  the  young  oaks  by  a  gall-fly  {Cynips).  They 
chattered  to  each  other  all  the  time,  holding  the  galls 
between  their  fore  feet,  fragments  dropping  to  the  ground 
beneath  the  trees.  Squirrels  are  fond  of  animal  food,  and  I 
wondered,  as  there  was  so  much  apparent  waste,  whether 
they  were  not  really  searching  for  the  grubs  in  the  galls. 
Of  late  years  squirrels  have  been  scarce  here;  they  were 
formerly  abundant,  but  their  numbers  were  much  reduced 
by  an  epidemic.  They  seem  to  be  increasing  again, 
possibly  the  felling  of  so  many  Scots-firs  has  driven 
them  from  their  former  haunts  into  adjoining  oak  and 
beech  woods,  such  as  those  which  almost  surround  my 
land. 

During  lunch  in  a  meadow  by  the  roadside,  on  a  cycling 
ride,  w^e  found  a  snake  with  a  toad  almost  down  its  throat; 
the  snake  disgorged  the  toad  and  escaped,  but  before 
we  had  finished  lunch  it  returned  and  repeated  the 
process.  This  time  I  carried  the  toad,  none  the  worse 
for  the  adventure,  some  distance  away,  where  I  hope  it 
was  safe.  Hedgehogs  are  said  to  eat  toads,  frogs,  beetles, 
and  snakes,  as  well  as  the  eggs  of  game,  to  which  1  have 
already  referred  (p.  264);  it  is  curious  that  the  old  name 
"  urchin"  has  been  superseded  in  some  places  by  "  hedge- 
hog," but  still  survives  in  the  "  sea-urchin,"  and  is  also 
used  for  a  troublesome  boy. 

It  is  very  interesting,  when  cycling,  to  notice  the 
changes  in  passing  from  one  geological  formation  to 
another,  and  in  railway  travelling,  with  a  geological 
map,  one  can  quickly  observe  the  transition;  the  cuttings 
give  an  immediate  clue,  and  the  contours  of  the  surface 
and  the  agriculture  are  further  guides.  The  alteration 
in  the  flora  is  particularly  marked  in  passing  from  the 
Bagshot  Sands,  for  instance,  to  the  Chalk,  or  from  the 
Lias  Clay  to  the  Lias  Limestone  or  the  Oolite;  the  lime- 
loving  plants  appear  on  the  Chalk  and  Limestone,  and 
disappear  on  the  Sands  and  Clays. 


HARMONIOUS  BUILDING  283 


The  sunken  appearance  of  the  old  roads  is  one  of  the 
best  proofs  of  their  antiquity,  and  one  is  inclined  to  wonder 
at  their  windings,  but  in  following  the  tracks  across  the 
Forest  moors  one  gets  an  insight  into  the  way  roads 
originated.  The  ancients  simply  adopted  the  line  of  least 
resistance  by  avoiding  hills,  boggy  places,  and  the  deep 
parts  of  streams,  choosing  the  shallow  fordable  spots  for 
crossing.  The  winding  road  is,  of  course,  much  more 
interesting  and  beautiful  than  the  later  straight  roads  of 
the  Romans,  though  no  doubt  many  of  the  former  were 
improved  by  the  invaders  for  their  more  important  traffic. 
It  is  to  be  regretted  that  the  formal  lines  of  telegraph 
and  telephone  poles  and  wires,  have  vulgarized  so  many 
of  our  beautiful  roads,  and  destroyed  their  retired  and 
venerable  expression;  more  especially  as  in  many  places 
these  were  erected  against  the  will  of  the  inhabitants, 
and  under  the  mistaken  idea  that  the  farmer's  business  is 
retail,  and  that  he  is  prepared  to  deal  in  and  deliver  small 
quantities  of  goods  daily,  receiving  urgent  orders  and  en- 
quiries by  telephone. 

The  villages  in  the  Vale  of  Evesham  and  the  Cotswolds 
afford  an  excellent  illustration  of  building  in  harmony 
with  surroundings,  and  the  suitability  of  making  use  of 
local  materials.  Thus,  in  the  Vale  we  find  mellow  old 
brick,  lias  limestone,  half  timber  and  thatch;  while 
on  the  Cotswolds,  oolite  freestone  and  "  stone  slates  " 
of  the  same  freestone  seem  the  only  suitable  material. 
Where  the  ugly  pink  bricks  and  blue  slates  have  of  late 
years  been  introduced,  they  appear  out  of  place  and 
contemptible.  There  is  an  immense  charm  about  these 
old  villages  of  hill  and  vale,  and  it  is  curious  to  think 
that  Aldington  was  an  established  community  with, 
probably,  as  many  inhabitants  as  at  the  present  day,  when 
London  and  Westminster  were  divided  by  green  fields. 

A  story  is  told  of  the  time  before  the  line  to  Oxford 
from  Wolverhampton  and  Worcester  was  built,  when 
persons  visiting  Oxford  from  the  Vale  of  Evesham  had 
to  travel  by  road.     An  old  yeoman  family,  having  decided 


284  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


upon  the  Church  as  the  vocation  for  one  of  the  sons,  sent 
him,  in  the  year  1818,  on  an  old  pony,  under  the  protection 
of  an  ancient  retainer  for  his  matriculation  examination. 
On  their  return,  in  reply  to  the  question,  "  Well,  did  you 
get  the  young  master  through  ?"  "  Oh,  yes,"  he  said, 
"  and  we  could  have  got  the  old  pony  passed  too,  if 
we'd  only  had  enough  money  !" 

Partly  as  an  excuse  for  a  bicycle  ride  I  used  often  to 
visit  distant  villages  where  auction  sales  at  farm-houses 
were  proceeding,  and  sometimes  I  came  home  with  old 
china  and  other  treasures.  Wherever  there  are  old 
villages  with  manor  houses  and  long  occupied  rich  land, 
wealth  formerly  accumulated  and  evidenced  itself  in 
well-designed  and  well-made  furniture,  upon  which  time 
has  had  comparatively  little  destructive  effect.  As  old 
fashions  were  superseded,  as  oak  gave  way  to  walnut, 
and  walnut  to  Spanish  mahogany,  the  out-of-date  furniture 
found  its  way  to  the  smaller  farm-houses  and  cottages, 
in  which  it  descended  from  generation  to  generation.  Now 
that  the  cottages  have  been  ransacked  by  dealers  and  col- 
lectors, the  treasures  have  not  only  been  absorbed  by 
wealthy  townspeople,  but  are  finding  their  way  with  those 
of  impoverished  lando^vners  and  occupiers  to  the  millionaire 
mansions  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic. 

There  is  no  limit  to  the  temptation  to  collect  when 
once  the  fascination  of  such  old  things  has  made  itself  felt 
— furniture,  china,  earthenware,  glass,  paintings,  brass  and 
pewter  become  an  obsession.  If  I  had  only  filled  my  barns 
with  Jacobean  and  Stuart  oak  and  walnut,  William 
and  Mary,  and  Queen  Ann  marquetry,  and  Chippendale, 
Sheraton  and  Hepplewhite  mahogany,  instead  of  wheat 
for  an  unsympathetic  British  public,  and  at  the  end  of 
my  time  at  Aldington  offered  a  few  of  the  least  interesting 
specimens  for  sale  by  auction,  I  might  still  have  carried 
away  a  houseful  of  treasures  which  would  have  cost  me 
less  than  nothing. 

An  old  friend  of  mine,  who  had  been  collecting  for 
many  years,  and  in  comparison  with  whom  I  was  a  novice, 


OLD  FURNITURE  AND  CHINA  285 

though  my  enthusiasm  long  preceded  the  fashion  of  the 
last  twenty-five  years,  told  me  that  he  once  discovered 
a  warehouse  in  a  Cotswold  village  crammed  with  Chippen- 
dale, and  that  the  owner,  having  no  sale  for  it,  was  glad 
to  exchange  a  waggon-load  for  the  same  quantity  of  hay 
and  straw  chaff. 

Among  the  more  interesting  articles  which  my  cycling 
excursions  and  previous  pilgrimages  on  foot  produced, 
I  have  a  charming  blue  and  white  carnation  pattern, 
Worcester  china  cider  mug  with  the  crescent  mark. 
These  mugs  are  said  to  have  been  specially  made  for  the 
Shakespeare  Jubilee  of  1769  at  Stratford-on-Avon  when 
Garrick  was  present.  The  date  corresponds  with  the 
time  when  the  mark  was  in  use,  and  establishes  the  age 
of  the  mug  as  150  years.  The  china  in  my  old  neigh- 
bourhood was  naturally  Worcester,  Bristol  and  Salopian, 
of  which  I  have  many  specimens — of  the  Worcester  more 
especially — ranging  from  the  earliest  days  of  unmarked 
pieces  through  the  Dr.  Wall  period,  Ban,  Flight  and  Barr, 
down  to  the  later  Chamberlain. 

An  old  pair  of  bellows  is  a  favourite  of  mine;  it  is  made 

of  pear-tree  wood,  decorated  with  an  incised  pattern  of 

thistles  and  foliage,  referring  possibly  to  the  Union  of 

England  and  Scotland  in  1707,  or  as  a  Jacobite  emblem 

of  a  few  years  later.     The  carving  is  surrounded  by  the 

motto : 

"with  mee  my  frend  may  still  be  free 
yet  vse  mee  not  till  cold  yov  bee." 

These  old  bellows  show  unmistakable  signs  of  their  more 
than  200  years  of  honourable  service,  and  they  have 
literally  breathed  their  last  though  still  surviving;  but 
it  would  be  sacrilege  to  renew  the  leather,  and  might 
disturb  the  ghosts  of  generations  of  old  ladies  who  blew 
the  dying  embers  into  a  ruddy  glow  when  awaiting,  in 
the  twilight  of  a  winter's  evening,  their  good-men's  return 
from  the  field  or  the  chase. 

One  of  my  greatest  finds  was  a  pair  of  Chippendale 
chairs  at  a  sale  at  Mickleton  at  the  foot  of  the  Cots  wolds; 


286  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

they  belong  to  the  early  part  of  the  Chippendale  period, 
before  the  Chinese  style  was  abandoned.  That  influence 
appears  in  incised  fretted  designs  on  the  legs,  and  the 
frieze  below  the  seats.  The  seats  are  covered  with  the 
original  tapestry,  adding  much  to  the  interest,  and  the 
backs  present  examples  of  the  most  spirited  carving  of 
the  maker.  At  the  sale,  when  I  went  to  have  a  second  look, 
I  found  two  dealers  sitting  on  them  and  chatting  quite 
casually;  the  intention  was  evidently  to  prevent  possible 
purchasers  from  noticing  them,  and  more  especially  to  hide 
the  tapestry  coverings.  The  value  of  the  chairs  immediately 
rose  in  my  estimation,  and  I  increased  the  limit  which 
I  had  given  to  a  bidder  on  my  behalf,  so  that  I  made 
sure  of  buying  them.  The  old  chairs  looked  very  shabby 
when  they  came  out  into  the  light  of  day,  and  they  fell 
to  my  representative's  bid  amid  roars  of  laughter  from 
the  rustic  crowd.  What  a  price  for  "  them  two  old 
cheers  "  !  they  "  never  heard  talk  of  such  a  job  !"  It 
would  surprise  them  to  know  that  I  have  been  offered 
five  times  what  they  then  cost. 

My  wife  has  had  to  do  with  many  parochial  committees 
from  time  to  time,  and  I  have  often  trembled  for  my 
Chippendale  chairs  when  these  meetings,  accompanied  by 
tea,  have  been  held  at  my  house,  for  it  is  not  everybody 
who  regards  them  with  the  reverence  due  to  their  external 
beauty  and  true  inwardness,  or  who  recognizes  in  them 
the 

"  Tea-cup  times  of  hood  and  hoop, 
Or  while  the  patch  was  worn." 

A  very  successful  afternoon  was  one  I  spent  at  a  sale 
at  North  Littleton.  I  remember  the  beautiful  spring 
day,  and  the  old  weather-worn  grey  house  in  an  orchard 
of  immense  pear-trees  covered  with  sheets  of  snowy 
blossom.  I  secured  a  Jacobean  elm  chest  with  well- 
carved  panels,  a  Jacobean  oak  chest  of  drawers  on  a  curious 
stand,  a  complete  tea  set  of  Staffordshire  ware,  including 
twelve  cups  and  saucers,  teapot,  and  other  pieces,  with 
Chinese  decoration;  four  Nankin  blue  handleless  tea-cups. 


OLD  FURNITURE  AND  CHINA  287 


a  Delft  plate,  and  a  Battersea  enamel  patch-box.  My 
bill  was  a  very  moderate  one,  but  the  executor  who  had 
the  matter  of  the  sale  in  hand  was  well  pleased  that  these 
old  family  relics  had  passed  into  the  possession  of  someone 
who  would  value  them,  and  not  to  careless  and  indifferent 
neighbours,  and  was  more  than  satisfied  with  the  amount 
realized.  Next  morning,  as  a  token  of  his  satisfaction,  he 
brought  me  a  charming  old  brass  Dutch  tobacco  box, 
with  an  oil  painting  inside  the  lid,  of  a  smoker  enjoying 
a  pipe. 

I  have  seen  some  amusing  incidents  at  sales  of  household 
goods  in  remote  places;  incredulous  smiles  as  to  the 
possibility  of  the  usefulness  of  anything  in  the  shape  of 
a  bath  generally  greeted  the  appearance  of  such  an  article, 
and  on  one  of  these  occasions  an  ancient,  with  great 
gravity,  and  as  an  apology  for  its  existence,  remarked 
that  it  was  "  A  very  good  thing  for  an  invalid  !"  I  am 
reminded  thereby  of  an  old-fashioned  hunting  man  in 
Surrey,  who  was  astonished  to  hear  from  a  friend  of  mine 
that  he  enjoyed  a  cold  bath  every  morning.  He  "  didn't 
think,"  he  said,  "  that  cold  water  was  at  all  a  good  thing — 
next  the  skin  J'* 


CHAPTER  XXV 

DIALECT— LOCAL  PHRASEOLOGY  IN  SHAKESPEARE- 
NAMES— STUPID  PLACES 

"  Our  echoes  roll  from  soul  to  soul." 

The  Princess. 

Compulsory  education  has  eliminated  many  of  the 
old  words  and  phrases  formerly  in  general  use  in  Worces- 
tershire, and  is  still  striving  to  substitute  a  more  "  genteel," 
but  not  always  more  correct,  and  a  much  less  picturesque, 
form  of  speech.  When  I  first  went  to  Aldington  I  found  it 
difficult  to  understand  the  dialect,  but  I  soon  got  accus- 
tomed to  it,  and  used  it  myself  in  speaking  to  the  villagers. 
Farrar  used  to  tell  us  at  school,  in  one  of  the  resounding 
phrases  of  which  he  was  rather  fond,  that  "All  phonetic 
corruption  is  due  to  muscular  effeminacy,"  which  accounts 
for  some  of  the  words  in  use,  but  does  not  alter  the  fact 
that  many  so-called  corrupt  words  are  more  correct 
than  the  modern  accepted  form. 

It  is  difficult  to  convey  the  peculiar  intonation  of  the 
Worcestershire  villager's  voice,  and  the  ipsissima  verba 
I  have  given  in  my  anecdotes  lose  a  good  deal  in  reading 
by  anyone  unacquainted  with  their  method.  Each 
sentence  is  uttered  in  a  rising  scale  with  a  drop  on  the 
last  few  words,  forming,  as  a  whole,  a  not  unmusical 
rhythmical  drawl.  As  instances  of  "  muscular  effeminacy," 
two  fields  of  mine,  where  flax  was  formerly  grown,  went 
by  the  name  of  "  Pax  grounds  ";  the  words  "  rivet  "  and 
"vine,"  were  rendered  "ribet"  and  "bine."  "March," 
a  boundary,  became  "  Marsh,"  so  that  Moreton-on-the- 
March  became,  most  unjustly,  "  Moreton-in-the-Marsh." 
"Do  out,"  was  "dout";  "pound,"  was  "pun"; 
"starved,"   starred.     The  Saxon   plural  is   still   in   use: 

288 


DIALECT  289 

"  housen  "  for  houses,  "  flen  "  for  fleas;  and  I  noticed, 
with  pleasure,  that  a  school  inspector  did  not  correct  the 
children  for  using  the  ancient  form.  Gilbert  White,  who 
died  in  1793,  -writes  in  the  section  of  his  book  devoted 
to  the  Antiquities  of  Selborne,  that  "  Within  the  author's 
memory  the  Saxon  plurals,  housen  and  peason,"  were  in 
common  use.  So  that  Selborne  more  than  a  hundred 
years  ago  had,  in  that  particular  at  any  rate,  advanced 
to  a  stage  of  dialect  which  in  Worcestershire  is  still  not 
fully  established.  Certain  words  beginning  with  "  h," 
seem  a  difficulty;  a  "  y  "  is  sometimes  prefixed,  and  the 
"  h  "  omitted.  Thus  height  becomes  "  yacth,"  as  nearly 
as  I  can  spell  it,  and  herring  is  " yerring."  "N "  is  an  ill- 
treated  letter  sometimes,  when  it  begins  a  word;  nettles 
are  always  "  ettles,"  but  when  not  wanted,  and  two 
consecutive  words  run  easier,  it  is  added,  as  in  "  osier 
nait  "  for  osier  ait. 

The  word  "  charm,"  from  the  Anglo-Saxon  cyrm,  is 
used  both  in  Worcestershire  and  Hampshire  for  a  con- 
tinuous noise,  such  as  the  cawing  of  nesting  rooks,  or  the 
hum  of  swarming  bees.  Similarly,  a  witch's  incantation 
— probably  in  monotone — is  a  charm,  and  then  comes  to 
mean  the  object  given  by  a  witch  to  an  applicant. 
"  Charming "  and  "  bewitching "  thus  both  proclaim 
their  origins,  but  have  now  acquired  a  totally  different 
signification. 

There  are  an  immense  number  of  curious  words  and 
phrases  in  everyday  use,  and  they  were  collected  by 
Mr.  A.  Porson,  M.A.,  who  published  a  very  interesting 
list  with  explanatory  notes  in  1875,  under  the  title  of 
Notes  of  Quaint  Words  and  Sayings  in  the  Dialect  of  South 
Worcestershire.  I  append  a  list  of  the  local  archaic  words 
and  phrases  which  can  also  be  found  in  Shakespeare's 
Plays.  This  list  was  compiled  by  me  some  years  ago,  and 
appeared  in  the  "  Notes  and  Queries "  column  of  the 
Evesham  Journal ;  I  think  all  are  still  to  be  heard  in 
Evesham  and  the  villages  in  that  corner  of  Worcester- 
shire. 

19 


290  ^A^  ENGLISH  MANOR 

Snip — sheep;  cf.  Shipton,  Shipston,  etc.;  Two  Gcntlanni  of  Vcroua,Act  I., 

Scene  1 ;  Comedy  of  Errors,  Act  IV.,  Scene  1. 
Falsing — the  present  participle  of  the  verb  "to  false";  Comedy  of  Errors, 

Act  II.,  Scene  2;  CymhcUne,  Act  II.,  Scene  3. 
Fall — verb  active;  Comedy  of  Errors,  Act  II.,  Scene  2;  Midsummer  Nighfs 

Dream,  Act  V.,  Scene  1. 
Customers — companions;  Comedy  of  Errors,  Act  IV.,  Scene  4. 
Knots — flower  beds;  Love's  Labour^ s  Lost,  Act  I.,  Scene  1;  Richard  11., 

Act  III.,  Scene  4. 
Talent — for  talon;  cf.  "tenant"  for  tenon;  Love''s  Labour's  Lost,  Act  IV., 

Scene  2. 
Metheglin — mead,  a  drink  made  from  honey ;  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  Act  V., 

Scene  2;  Merry  Wives,  Act  V.,  Scene  5. 
Handkekcuer — handkerchief;    King    John,    Act    IV.,    Scene    1;    King 

Henry  V.,  Act  III.,  Scene  2. 
Nor  never  shall — two  negatives  strengthening  each  other;  King  John, 

Act  IV.,  Scene  1,  and  Act  V.,  Scene  7. 
Contrary — stress  on  the  penultimate  syllable;  cf.  "matrimony,"  "secre- 
tary," "  January,"  etc. ;  King  John,  Act  IV.,  Scene  2. 
To  kesolve — to  dissolve;  King  John,  Act  V.,  Scene  4;  Hamlet,  Act  I., 

Scene  2. 
Strond — strand;    cf.    "hommer" — hammer,    "  opples  " — apples,    etc.; 

1  King  Henry  IV.,  Act  I.,  Scene  1. 

Apple  John — John  Apple  (?);  /  King  Henry  IV.,  Act  III.,  Scene  3; 

2  King  Henry  IV.,  Act  II.,  Scene  4. 

Gull — young  cuckoo;  1  King  Henry  IV.,  Act  V.,  Scene  1. 

To  BUCKLE — to  bend;  2  King  Henry  IV.,  Act  I.,  Scene  1. 

Nice — weak;  cf.  "  naish  " — weak;  2  King  Henry  IV.,  Act  I.,  Scene  1. 

Old — extreme,  very  good;  2  King  Henry  IV.,  Act  II.,  Scene  4. 

Peascod-time — peapicking  time;  2  King  Henry  IV.,  Act  II.,  Scene  4. 

Was  like — had  nearly;  King  Henry  V.,  Act  I.,  Scene  1. 

ScAMBLiNG — scrambling;  King  Henry  V.,  Act  I.,  Scene  1. 

Marches — boundaries;     cf.     Morcton-in-the-Marsh,    i.e.,     March;     King 

Henry  V.,  Act  I.,  Scene  2. 
Swilled — washed;  King  Henry  V.,  Act  III.,  Scene  1. 
To  DRESS — to  decorate  with  evergreens,  etc. ;  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  Act  III., 

Scene  1. 
Yellows — jaundice;  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  Act  III.,  Scene  2. 
Drink — ale;  "Drink"  is  still  used  for  ale  as  distinguished  from  cider; 

Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream,  Act  II.,  Scene  1. 
Barm — yeast;  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  Act  II.,  Scene  1. 
LoFFE — laugh;  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  Act  II.,  Scene  1. 
Leathern — (bats);  cf.  "  leatherun  bats,"  as  distinguished  from  "bats" — 

beetles;  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  Act  II.,  Scene  3. 
Eaning  time — lambing  time;  JMerchant  of  Venice,  Act  I.,  Scene  3. 
Spet — spit;  cf.  set — sit,  sperit — spirit,  etc.;  Merchant  of  Venice,  Act  I., 

Scene  3. 
FitiriioRSE — shaft  horse;  of.  "  filler  "  and  "  thiller  ";  Merchant  of  Venice, 

Act  II.,  Scene  2. 
Proud  on — proud  of;  Much  Ado,  Act  IV.,  Scene  1 
Odds — difference;  cf.  "  wide  odds";  As  you  Like  It,  Act  I.,  Scene  2. 


LOCAL  PHRASEOLOGY  IN  SHAKESPEARE    291 

CojrE  YOUR  WAYS — comc  on;  As  You  Like  It,  Act  I.,  Scene  2. 

To  SAUCE — to  be  impertinent;  As  You  Like  It,  Act  III.,  Scene  5. 

The  motion — the  usual  form;  IFiH/er's  Tale,  Act  IV.,  Scene  2. 

Inchmeal — bit  by  bit;  Tempest,  Act  II.,  Scene  2. 

FiLBERDS — filberts;  Tempest,  Act  II.,  Scene  2. 

To  lade — to  bale  (liquid);  3  King  Henry  VI.,  Act  III.,  Scene  3. 

To  lap — to  wrap;  King  Richard  III.,  Act  II.,  Scene  1;  Macbeth,  Act  I., 

Scene  2. 
Bitter  sweeting — an  apple  of  poor  quality  grown  from  a  kernel ;  cf. 

"  bitter  sweet  " — the  same;  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  II.,  Scene  4. 
Varsal  world — universal  world;  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  II.,  Scene  4, 
Mammet — a    puppet;    cf.    "  mommet " — scarecrow;    Romeo    and   Juliet, 

Act  III.,  Scene  5. 
To  GRUNT — to  grumble;  Hamlet,  Act  III.,  Scene  1. 
To  FUST — to  become  mouldy;  Hamlet,  Act  IV.,  Scene  5. 
DouT — do  out;  cf.  "  don  " — do  on;  Hamlet,  Act  IV.,  Scene  7. 
Magot  pies — Magpies;  Macbeth,  Act  III.,  Scene  4. 
Set  down — write  down;  Macbeth,  Act  V.,  Scene  1. 
To  pun — to  pound;  Troilus  and  Cressida,  Act  II.,  Scene  1. 
Native — place  of  origin;  cf.  "  natif  ";  Coriolanus,  Act  III.,  Scene  1. 
Sleek — bald;  cf.  "  slick";  Julius  Ccesar,  Act  I.,  Scene  2. 
Warn — summon;  cf.  "  backwai'n  " — tell  a  person  not  to  comc;  Julius 

Ccesar,  Act  V.,  Scene  1. 
Breese — gadfly;  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  Act  III.,  Scene  8. 
Woo't — wilt  thou;  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  Act  IV.,  Scene  13. 
Urchin — hedgehog;  Titus  Andronicus,  Act  II.,  Scene  3. 
Meshed — mashed  (a  term  used  in  brewing);  Titus  Andronicus,  Act  III., 

Scene  2. 

All  the  above  words  and  phrases  the  WTiter  has  frequently 
heard  used  in  the  neighbourhood  in  the  senses  indicated, 
but  to  make  the  list  more  complete  the  following  are 
added  on  the  authority  of  Mr.  A.  Porson,  in  the  pamphlet 
referred  to: 

CoLLiED — black;  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream,  Act  I.,  Scene  I, 

LiMMEL — limb  from  limb;  cf.  "  inchmeal  " — bit  by  bit;  Cymbeline,  Act  II., 

Scene  4. 
To  MAMMOCK — to  tear  to  pieces;  Coriolanus,  Act  I.,  Scene  3. 
To  MOIL — to  dirty;  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  Act  IV.,  Scene  1. 
Sallet — salad;  2  King  Henry  VI.,  Act  IV.,  Scene  10. 
Utis — great  noise;  2  King  Henry  IV.,  Act  II.,  Scene  4. 

Place-names  everywhere  are  a  most  interesting  study; 
as  a  rule,  people  do  not  recognize  that  every  place-name 
has  a  meaning  or  reference  to  some  outstanding  peculiarity 
or  characteristic  of  the  place,  and  that  much  history  can  be 
gathered  from  interpretation.     In  cycling,   it  is  one  of 


292  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

the  many  interests  to  unravel  these  derivations;  merely 
as  an  instanee,  I  may  mention  that  in  Dorset  and  Wilts 
the  name  of  Winterbourne,  with  a  prefix  or  suffix,  often 
occurs;  of  course,  "  bourne  "  means  a  stream,  but  until 
one  knows  that  a  "  winterbourne  "  is  a  stream  that  appears 
in  winter  only,  and  does  not  exist  in  summer,  the  name 
carries  no  special  signification. 

One  hears  some  curious  personal  names  in  the  Worces- 
tershire villages;  scriptural  names  are  quite  common,  and 
seem  very  suitable  for  the  older  labourers  engaged  upon 
their  honourable  employment  on  the  land.  We  had  a 
maid  named  Vashti,  and  she  was  quite  shy  about  men- 
tioning it  at  her  first  interview  with  my  wife.  In  all 
country  neighbourhoods  there  is  a  special  place  with  the 
unenviable  reputation  of  stupidity;  such  was  "  Yabberton  " 
(Ebrington,  on  the  Cotswolds),  and  Vashti  was  somewhat 
reluctant  to  admit  that  it  was  her  "  natif,"  as  a  birthplace 
is  called  in  the  district.  Among  the  traditions  of  Yabberton 
it  is  related  that  the  farmers,  being  anxious  to  prolong  the 
summer,  erected  hurdles  to  wall  in  the  cuckoo,  and  that 
they  manured  the  church  tower,  expecting  it  to  sprout 
into  an  imposing  steeple  !  There  is  a  place  in  Surrey, 
Send,  with  a  similar  reputation,  where  the  inhabitants 
had  to  visit  a  pond  before  they  could  tell  that  rain  was 
falling  ! 

But  perhaps  the  best  story  of  the  kind  is  told  in  the  New 
Forest,  where  the  Isle  of  Wight  is  regarded  as  the  acme 
of  stupidity.  When  the  Isle  of  Wight  people  first  began 
to  walk  erect,  instead  of  on  all  fours,  they  are  said  to  have 
waggled  their  arms  and  hands  helplessly  before  them, 
saying,  "  And  what  be  we  to  do  with  these-um  ?" 

Classical  names  are  very  uncommon  among  villagers, 
but  in  my  old  Surrey  parish  there  was  one  which  was  the 
cause  of  much  speculation.  The  name  was  Hercules; 
it  originated  in  a  disagreement  between  the  parents,  before 
the  child  was  christened.  The  mother  wanted  his  name 
to  be  John,  but  the  father  insisted,  that  as  an  older  son  was 
Noah,   the    only   possible   name   for  the  new   baby   was 


STUPID  PLACES  298 

"  Hark  "  (Ark).  They  had  a  lengthy  argument,  and  there 
was  no  definite  understanding  before  reaching  the  ehurch. 
The  mother,  when  asked  to  "  name  this  child,"  being 
flustered,  hesitated,  but  finally  stammered  out,  "Hark, 
please."  The  vicar  was  puzzled,  and  repeated  the  question 
with  the  same  result;  a  third  attempt  was  equally  un- 
successful, and  the  vicar,  in  despair,  falling  back  upon 
his  classical  knowledge,  christened  the  child  Hercules. 
A  few  daj'^s  later  the  vicar  called  at  the  cottage,  and  the 
mother  explained  the  matter,  relating  how  indignant 
she  was  with  her  husband,  and  how  on  the  way  home, 
"Hark,  I  says  to  him,  ain't  the  name  of  a  Christian,  it's 
the  name  of  a  barge  !" 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

IS  ALDINGTON  (FORMER  SITE)  THE  ROMAN  AJITONA? 

"  Imperious  Caesar,  dead  and  turn'd  to  clay, 
INIight  stop  a  hole  to  keep  the  wind  away: 
O,  that  that  earth,  which  kept  the  world  in  awe 
Should  patch  a  wall  to  expel  the  winter's  flaw  !" 

Hamlet. 

One  of  my  fields — about  five  acres — called  Blackbanks 
from  its  extraordinarily  black  soil,  over  a  yard  deep  in 
places,  and  the  more  remarkable  because  the  soil  of  the 
surrounding  fields  is  stiff  yellowish  clay,  showed  other 
indications  of  long  and  very  ancient  habitation.  Among 
the  relics  found  was  a  stone  quern,  measuring  about 
21  inches  by  12  by  7f,  and  having,  on  each  of  two 
opposite  sides,  a  basin-shaped  depression  about  6  inches  in 
diameter  at  the  top,  and  2f  inches  in  depth;  also  a  small 
stone  ring,  Ij  inches  in  diameter,  and  ^ths  in  thickness, 
with  a  hole  in  the  centre  ^  inch  across ;  the  edges  are  rounded, 
and  it  is  similar  to  those  I  have  seen  in  museums,  called 
spindle  whorls.  The  quern  and  the  ring  I  imagine  to  be 
British.  This  field  and  the  fields  adjacent  on  the  north 
side  of  the  stream  formed,  I  think,  primarily  a  British 
settlement  and  area  of  cultivation,  afterwards  appro- 
priated by  the  Romans  in  the  earliest  days  of  the  Roman 
occupation  of  Britain,  and  inhabited  by  them  as  a  military 
station  until  they  left  the  country. 

Among  other  relics  found  in  Blackbanks  and  in  the 
fields  to  the  north,  called  Blackminster,  between  Black- 
banks  and  the  present  line  of  the  Great  Western  Railway, 
aggregating  about  a  hundred  acres,  there  were  found  large 
quantities  of  fragments  of  pottery  of  several  kinds,  in- 
cluding black,  grey,  and  red,  and  among  the  latter  the 
smoothly  glazed  Samian.    Many  pieces  are  ornamented 

294 


IS  ALDINGTON  THE  ROMAN  ANTON  A  ?     295 

with  patterns,  some  very  primitive,  others  geometrical ; 
others  are  in  texture  like  Wedgwood  basalt  ware,  and 
similar  in  colour  and  decoration.  The  Samian  is  mostly- 
plain,  but  a  few  pieces  have  patterns  and  representations 
of  human  figures. 

The  fields,  but  especially  Blackbanks,  contained  quan- 
tities of  bones,  the  horns  of  sheep  or  goats,  pieces  of  stags, 
horns,  iron  spear  and  arrow-heads,  horses'  molar  teeth, 
and  flint  pebbles  worn  flat  on  one  side  by  the  passage  of 
innumerable  feet  for  many  years.  A  millstone  showing 
marks  of  rotation  on  the  surface,  a  bronze  clasp  or  brooch 
with  fragments  of  enamel  inlay,  the  ornamental  bronze 
handle  of  an  important  key,  a  glass  lacrymatory  (tear- 
bottle),  numerous  coins — referred  to  below — and  other 
objects  in  bronze  and  iron,  were  also  found. 

Only  centuries  of  habitation  and  cultivation  could 
have  changed  the  three  feet  of  surface  soil  in  Blackbanks 
from  a  stiff  unworkable  clay  to  a  black  friable  garden 
mould,  and  it  is  probable  that  the  British  occupation  had 
lasted  for  a  very  long  period  before  the  Romans  took 
possession.  The  settlement  must  have  been  a  place  of 
importance,  because  it  was  approached  from  the  north 
by  a  track,  still  existing  though  practically  disused, 
probably  British,  from  a  ford  over  the  Avon,  near  the 
present  Fish  and  Anchor  Inn.  This  track  passes  to  the 
west  of  South  Littleton,  on  through  the  middle  of  the 
Blackminster  land,  and  immediately  to  the  east  of  Black- 
banks,  joining  what  I  believe  to  be  the  Ryknield  Street 
at  the  bridge  over  the  stream  on  the  South  Littleton  road. 
Near  the  present  Royal  Oak  Inn  it  formerly  crossed  the 
present  Evesham-Bretforton  road,  and  became  what  is 
still  called  Salter  Street.  It  appears  to  have  given  access 
to  two  more  sites  on  which  Roman  coins  and  relics  are 
found — Foxhill  about  9|  acres,  and  Blackground  about 
4  acres — and  passing  east  of  the  present  Badscy  church, 
proceeded  through  Wickhamford,  and  by  a  well-defined 
track  to  Hinton-on-the-Green,  and  on  to  Tewkesbury 
and  Gloucester, 


296  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

The  occurrence  of  the  name  Salter  Street  gives  a  clue 
to  one  of  the  original  uses  of  the  road,  at  any  rate  in 
Roman  times,  for  salt  was  an  absolute  necessity  in  those 
days,  as  may  be  gathered  from  a  passage  in  2'he  Natural 
History  of  Selborne,  written  in  1778: 

"  Three  or  four  centuries  ago,  before  there  were  any 
enclosures,  sown  grasses,  field  turnips,  or  field  carrots,  or 
hay,  all  the  cattle  which  had  grown  fat  in  summer,  and 
were  not  killed  for  winter  use,  were  turned  out  soon  after 
Michaelmas  to  shift  as  they  could  through  the  dead 
months;  so  that  no  fresh  meat  could  be  had  in  winter  or 
spring.  Hence  the  vast  stores  of  salted  flesh  found  in 
the  larder  of  the  elder  Spencer  in  the  days  of  Edward  II., 
even  so  late  in  the  spring  as  the  3rd  of  May."  A  note 
adds  that  the  store  consisted  of  "  Six  hundred  bacons, 
eighty  carcasses  of  beef  and  six  hundred  muttons." 

It  is  not  difficult  to  trace  the  route  over  which  the 
salt  was  carried  from  Droitwich.  Starting  thence  the 
track  can  be  approximately  identified  by  the  names  of 
places  in  which  the  root,  sal  (salt),  occurs,  and  we  find 
Sale  Way,  Salding,  Sale  Green,  and,  further  south,  Salford. 
Crossing  the  Worcester-Alcester  road  at  Radford,  and 
proceeding  through  Rouse  Lench  and  Church  Lench, 
we  reach  Harvington,  from  whence  the  track  takes  us 
across  the  low-lying  meadows  to  the  ferry  and  ford  over 
the  Avon,  near  the  Fish  and  Anchor  Inn  mentioned 
above. 

In  recent  times  it  has  been  assumed  that  the  road  from 
Bidford  to  Weston  Subedge,  known  as  Buckle  Street, 
is  identical  with  Ryknield  Street,  but  I  should  prefer  to  call 
Buckle  Street  a  branch  of  the  latter  only,  for  the  purpose 
of  joining  Ryknield  Street  and  the  Foss  Way  near  Burton- 
on-the-Water.  I  consider  the  real  course  of  Ryknield 
Street  to  be  as  described  in  Leland's  Itinerary  (inserted 
by  Hearne),  Edition  III.,  1768,  in  w^hich  he  quotes,  from 
R.  Gale's  Essay  concerning  the  Four  Great  Roman  Ways, 
that  "  from  Bitford  on  the  southern  edge  of  Warwick- 
shire it  (Ryknield  Street)  runs  into  Worcestershire,  and 


IS  ALDINGTON  THE  ROMAN  ANTON  A  ?    297 

taking  its  course  thro'  South  Littleton  goes  on  a  little  to 
the  east  of  Evesham,  and  then  by  Hinton  and  west  of 
Sedgebarrow  into  Gloucestershire,  near  Aston-undcr-Hill, 
and  so  by  Bekford,  Ashehurch,  and  a  little  east  of  Tewks- 
bury,  thro'  Norton  to  Gloucester." 

Such  a  course  for  Ryknield  Street  would  make  it  the 
connection  between  the  north,  rumiing  through  the  Roman 
Alauna  (Alcester)  to  Glevum  (Gloucester).  It  must  be 
remembered  that  there  was,  in  Roman  times,  nothing 
at  Evesham  to  take  the  road  there,  for  Evesham  did  not 
exist  as  a  town  until  long  after  the  Romans  left.  Leland 
says  that  there  was  "  noe  towene  at  Eovesham  before  the 
foundation  of  the  Abbey,"  which  took  place  about  a.d.  701, 
about  250  years  later,  and  there  was  no  road  from  Alcester 
to  Gloucester  except  the  one  we  are  following. 

Another  important  road  passed  the  northern  extremity 
of  Blackminster  and  crossed  the  road  just  referred  to  so 
that  the  Blackminster  area  was  situated  at  the  junction. 
This  was  the  old  road  from  Worcester,  passing  the  present 
site  of  Evesham  a  mile  or  more  to  the  north,  crossing  the 
Avon  at  Twyford,  and  the  Ryknield  Street  at  Black- 
minster, and  going  onwards  through  Chipping  Campden 
towards  London. 

The  following  passage  in  the  Annals  of  Tacitus,  Book 
XIL,  chapter  xxxi.,  Ille  (Ostorius)  .  .  .  detrahere  arma 
suspectis,  cinctosque  castris  Antonam  et  Sabrinam  fluvios 
cohibere  parat,  which  refers  to  the  fortification  of  the  Antona 
and  Severn  rivers  by  the  Roman  general  P.  Ostorius 
Scapula,  has  been  the  subject  of  various  readings  and 
controversy  about  the  word  Antona,  no  river  of  that  name 
having  been  identified.  The  reading  given  above  may  not 
be  good  Latin,  but  the  names  of  the  rivers  are  quite  plain. 
Another  reading  substitutes  Avonam  for  Antonam;  but 
probably  Tacitus  avoided  the  use  of  the  word  Avon 
because  it  was  then  a  Celtic  term  for  rivers  in  general,  and 
confusion  would  arise  between  the  Avon  which  joins  the 
Severn  at  Tewkesbury  and  the  Avon  a  little  further  south 
which  runs  into  the  Severn  estuary  at  Bristol.     To  make 


298  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 

his  meaning  quite  clear  he  did  exactly  what  we  do  now  in 
speaking  of  the  Stratford  Avon  (i.e.,  river)  and  the  Biistol 
Avon  [i.e.,  river)  when  he  prefixed  Anionam  {et  Sahrinam) 
to  the  word  fluvios. 

If,  therefore,  we  can  find  a  place  of  importance  with 
the  name  of  Antona,  or  a  name  that  may  fairly  represent 
it,  having  regard  to  subsequent  corruptions,  existing  also 
in  Roman  times  on  or  near  the  Avon  branch  of  the  Severn, 
we  shall  be  justified  in  assuming  that  this  particular  Avon 
was  the  river  he  had  in  his  mind.  Such  a  place  is  the 
area  I  have  described  as  full  of  traces  of  long  Roman  and 
pre-Roman  occupation,  situated  at  the  junction  of  two 
ancient  roads,  very  important  from  the  military  point  of 
view,  and  within  a  mile  of  the  Avon. 

On  the  supposition  that  Antona  and  Aldington  may  be 
identical,  the  present  site  of  the  latter  is  perhaps  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  from  the  Roman  area  which  I  have  described,  but 
the  original  Aldington  Mill,  traces  of  the  foundations  of 
which  are  still  to  be  seen,  was  actually  on  the  Roman  area. 
A  better  position  for  it  was  found  later,  away  from  the 
difficulties  of  approach  caused  by  floods,  and  it  was  moved 
to  the  site  occupied  by  the  present  mill  just  below  the 
Manor  House,  probably  in  Anglo-Saxon  times.  Although 
the  name  of  the  village  became,  in  Anglo-Saxon,  Aldington, 
or  something  similar,  the  old  name  of  Anton  or  Aunton  was 
evidently  in  common  local  use,  as  appears  in  the  following 
list  of  names  which  the  present  village  has  borne  at  different 
times.  It  is  specially  interesting  to  notice  that  the  more 
elaborate  "  Aldington  "  and  its  variants  appear  in  the 
more  scholarly  records,  such  as  those  of  Evesham  Abbey 
and  Domesday  Survey,  written  by  people  not  living  in 
the  village;  while  the  parish  churchwardens  1527-1571, 
the  will  of  Richard  Yardley  1531,  the  village  constable 
1715,  and  the  villagers  at  the  present  day,  all  living  in 
the  place  itself,  carry  on  the  old  tradition  in  the  names 
they  use  which  approximate  very  closely  to  the  Roman 
Antona,  and  are  indeed  identical  in  their  manuscripts, 
if  the  Latin  terminal  a  is  omitted. 


IS  ALDINGTON  THE  ROMAN  ANTON  A  ?    299 


Date 
Aldintone,  Charter  of  the  Kings  Kenred  and  Offa,  possessions 

of  Evesham  Abbey  . .  . .  . .  . .  . .  709 

Aldingtonc"\ 

Aldintun     J-Domesday  Survey  . .  . .  . .  . .  . .  circ.  1086 

Aldintona  J 

Aldringtona,  An  Adjudication ;  Evesham  Abbey       ..  ..  1176 

Aldetone,  Institutes  of  Abbot  Randulf ,  died 1229 

Awnton,  Will  of  Richard  Yardley  of  Awnton  . .  . .  1531 

I  1527 
Aunton,  Churchwardens  accounts        . .         . .         . .         . .       -I     to 

[  1571 

Anton,  Old  MS.  "  A  Bill  for  ye  Constable  " 1715 

Alne  or  Auln,  Villagers   . .  . .  . .  . .  . .  . .     present  day 


As  parallels  of  the  local  persistence  of  old  names,  the 
neighbouring  village  of  Wickhamford  (present-day  name) 
is  still  called  Wicwon  by  the  villagers,  the  same  name  under 
which  it  appears  in  the  Charter  of  the  Abbey  possessions 
in  709.  And  the  Celtic  London  still  persists  in  spite  of 
the  Roman  attempt  to  confer  upon  it  the  grander  name  of 
Augusta. 

The  disappearance  of  anything  in  the  shape  of  founda- 
tions of  former  buildings  is  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that 
the  whole  area  was  quarried  many  "years  ago  for  the 
building  stone  and  limestone  beneath,  and  any  surface 
stone  would  have  been  removed  at  the  same  time.  One 
of  the  fields  still  bears  the  name  of  the  "  Quar  Ground," 
and  the  remains  of  lime-kilns  can  be  found  in  several  places. 

It  is  right  to  add  that  Blackbanks  as  the  site  of  Antona 
was  suggested  to  me  many  years  ago  by  the  late  Canon 
Winnington  Ingram,  Rector  of  Harvington;  in  discussing 
the  matter,  however,  we  got  no  further  than  the  bare 
suggestion  derived  from  the  appearance  of  long  habitation 
and  the  occurrence  of  Roman  coins  and  pottery  in  Black- 
banks  only,  and  without  reference  to  the  much  larger 
area  of  Blackminster.  Canon  Winnington  Ingram  was 
not  familiar  with  the  place,  and  I  had  not  apprehended 
the  importance  of  the  track  from  the  "  Fish  and  Anchor  " 
as  a  salt  way  starting  from  Droitwich,  nor  was  I  aware  of 
Salter  Street,  its  continuation  after  passing  Blackbanks. 
Neither  had   I   distinguished    between  Buckle  Street  as 


800  AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


the  junction  between  Ryknield  Street  and  the  Foss  Way, 
and  Ryknield  Street  itself  as  the  direct  road  from  the 
north  through  Birmingham,  Alcester,  Bidford,  Antona  (?) 
Hinton,  and  Gloucester. 

Virgil,  in  his  first  Georgia,  refers  to  the  possible  future 
discovery  of  Roman  remains,  and  Dryden  translates  the 
passage  thus : 

"  Then  after  lapse  of  time,  the  lab'ring  swains, 
AVho  turn  the  turfs  of  these  unhappy  plains, 
Shall  rusty  piles  from  the  ploughed  furrows  take. 
And  over  empty  helmets  pass  the  rake." 

Such  is  almost  prophetic  of  my  Roman  site  to-day; 
little  did  Virgil  imagine  that  his  lines  would  apply  so 
nearly  in  Britain  two  thousand  years  later. 

A  List  of  the  Coins  found  and  Names  of  the  Emperors 
TO  WHOSE  Reigns  they  belong,  with  Short  Notes 
ON  THE  Leading  Incidents  in  connection  with 
Britain  which  occurred  in  their  Reigns: 

1.  A  Denarius,  88  B.C. 

2.  A  Denarius,  88  B.C.  plated.     As  consular  denarii  passed  out  of  circula- 

tion soon  after  a,d.  70,  these  two  coins  suggest  that  the  site  w^as 
under  Roman  influence  by  that  date  at  the  latest. 

3.  Claudius,  Emperor  (a.d.  41-54). 
4    Nerva,  Emperor  (96-98). 

5.  Antoninus  Pius,  Emperor  (138-161). 

6.  Marcus  Aurelius,  Emperor  (161-180). 

7.  Severus  Alexander,  Emperor  (222-235). 

8.  The  Thirty  Tyrants  (211-284).     Several  coins  of  this  period,  badly 

defaced. 

9.  Etruscilla,  wife  of  Traianus  Decius  (249-251). 

10.  Gallienus,  Emperor  (253-268). 

11.  Postumus,  Gallic  Emperor  (258-268) 

12.  Claudius  Gothicus,  Emperor  (268-270) 

13.  Tetricus,  Gallic  Emperor  (270-273). 

14.  Tacitus,  Emperor  (275-276) 

15.  Diocletianus,  Emperor  (284-305). 

16.  Carausius,  Emperor  in  Britain  (286-294) 

17.  Allectus,  Emperor  in  Britain  (294-296). 

18.  Theodora,  second  wife  of  Constantias   I.  (Chlorus,  Caesar,  293-305; 

Augustus,  305-6). 

19.  Licinius,  Emperor  (307-.324). 

20.  Constantinus  Emperor  (306-337);  (Constantinc  the  Great). 


IS  ALDINGTON  THE  ROMAN  ANTON  A  ?    301 

21.  Coin  with  head  of  Constantinopolis  (City  Deity)  {circ.  830). 

22.  Constantinus  II.,  Emperor  (337-340). 

23.  Constantius  II.,  Emperor  (337-361). 

24.  Gratianus,  Emperor  (367-383). 

British  Coin. 

25.  Antedrigus,  British  Prince  {circ.  50). 

The  figures  in  brackets  in  the  following  notes  refer  to 
the  coins  as  numbered  in  the  above  list : 

(3)  The  Claudian  invasion  of  Britain  was  begun  in 
A.D.  43  by  an  army  under  the  command  of  Aulus 
Plant ius  Silvanus.  He  led  his  army  from  the  coast  of 
Kent,  where  he  probably  landed,  to  the  Thames,  and 
waited  for  Claudius  himself,  in  whose  presence  the  advance 
to  Camulodunum  (Colchester)  was  made  during  the  latter 
part  of  43.  Claudius  apparently  left  Rome  in  July, 
and  was  absent  for  six  months,  but  his  stay  in  Britain 
is  said  to  have  lasted  only  sixteen  days. 

In  the  pacification  which  occupied  the  next  three  years 
there  are  two  points  of  interest  to  notice.  The  first  is  a 
series  of  minor  campaigns  conducted  by  Vespasian — 
Emperor  69-79 — who  subdued  the  Isle  of  Wight  and 
penetrated  from  Hampshire,  perhaps,  to  the  Mendip 
Hills.  The  second  is  the  submission  of  Prasutagus,  the 
British  philo-Roman  prince  of  the  Iceni. 

It  is  conjectured  that  his  policy  led  a  certain  number 
of  patriots  under  a  rival  prince,  Antedrigus,  to  migrate 
towards  the  unoccupied  west.  A  coin  (25)  of  Antedrigus, 
with  an  extremely  barbarous  head  in  profile  on  the  obverse 
and  a  horse  on  the  reverse,  was  found  on  the  Roman  area 
at  Aldington.  The  types  of  this  coin  are  ultimately 
derived  from  those  on  the  gold  staters  struck  by  Philip 
of  Makedon,  father  of  Alexander  the  Great.  The  original 
had  a  young  male  head  (?  of  Apollo)  on  obverse  and  a  two- 
horse  chariot  as  reverse  type.  The  influence  came  to 
Britain  from  Gaul,  where  the  coins  of  Makedon  may  have 
arrived  by  the  valleys  of  Danube  and  Rhine;  but  it  is  not 
improbable  that  the  types  reached  Gaul  through  Massilia 
(Marseilles). 


802  ^A^  ENGLISH  MANOR 

In  47  Plautius  was  succeeded  by  P.  Ostorius  Scapula, 
who  pressed  westwards  and  fought  a  great  battle  with 
the  nationalist  army  of  Carataeus  in  51.  Camu- 
lodunum  became  a  colonia  in  50,  and  the  military 
organization  of  Britain  then  began  to  take  shape  by  the 
establishment  of  four  legionary  headquarters — Isca 
Silurum  (Caerlcon-on-Usk),  Viroconium  (Wroxeter),  Deva 
(Chester)  and  Lindum  (Lincoln).  This  disposition,  which 
faced  north  and  west,  came  near  to  breaking  down  in 
61,  when  the  east  rose  under  Boudicca  (Boadicea),  queen 
of  the  Iceni,  partly  in  protest  against  the  usury  of  Seneca, 
the  philosopher  and  tutor  of  Nero. 

(4)  It  was  in  the  year  97,  during  the  principate  of 
Nerva,  that  Tacitus  the  historian  was  consul.  By  this 
time  the  IXth  Hispana  legion  had  been  transferred  from 
Lindum  to  Eburacum  (York). 

(5)  Under  Antoninus  Pius  a  revolt  of  the  Brigantes 
(between  Humber  and  Mersey)  was  put  down  by  A.  Lollius 
Urbicus  in  a.d.  140.  Lollius  also  completed  the  northern 
defences,  begun  by  Hadrian,  with  a  new  wall  further  north 
between  the  Firth  and  the  Clyde. 

(6)  While  Marcus  Aurelius  was  emperor,  according  to 
a  tradition  preserved  by  Bede,  the  British  Church  came 
into  close  connection  with  Rome  and  received  what  he 
calls  a  mission — more  probably  a  band  of  fugitives  from 
persecution.  Though  the  tale  is  doubtful  in  details,  it  is 
evidence  to  show  that  Christianity  was  strong  in  the  island 
by  this  time. 

(9)  Decius,  husband  of  Etruscilla,  was  responsible  for 
the  great  persecution  of  Christians  in  250-51;  the  occa- 
sion was  the  1,000th  anniversary  of  Rome's  foundation. 

(10)  Gallienus,  son  of  Valerian,  was  entrusted  with  the 
west  on  his  father's  accession  in  253  and  defended  the 
Rhine  frontier  until  he  was  left  sole  Emperor  in  258, 
when  Valerian  was  captured  by  Shapur  of  Persia.  Various 
usurpations  compelled  Gallienus  to  enter  Italy,  and  he  left 
the  Rhine  defences  in  charge  of  a  general — M.  Cassianius 
Latinius  Postumus. 


IS  ALDINGTON  THE  ROMAN  ANTON  A  ?    303 

(11)  Postumus  at  once  had  to  face  a  great  invasion  of 
Franks.  He  gained  some  successes  and  was  therefore 
proclaimed  emperor  by  the  armies  of  Gaul  and  Britain. 
Before  long  dissensions  broke  out  in  the  Gallic  empire 
and  several  commanders  rose  and  fell  in  rapid  succession. 
It  is  conceivable  that  some  of  these  are  represented  in  the 
coins  found  in  Blackbanks,  but  these  specimens  are  too 
badly  weathered  for  certain  identification  to  be  possible. 

(12)  On  March  4,  268,  Gallienus  was  assassinated. 
His  successor  was  M.  Aurelius  Claudius,  afterwards  sur- 
named  Gothicus,  a  skilful  general  who  did  the  empire  great 
service  by  his  victories  over  invaders  from  Switzerland  and 
the  Tyrol  by  the  shores  of  theLago  di  Garda,  and  over  the 
Goths  at  Naissus  (Nish). 

(13)  Tetricus  is  of  interest  only  because  his  surrender 
to  Aurelian  in  273  marks  the  collapse  of  the  Gallic  empire. 

(15-18)  Diocletian  became  Augustus  in  284,  and  co-opted 
Maximian  as  his  colleague  two  years  later.  About  the 
same  time  Carausius,  commander  of  the  Channel  fleet, 
crossed  to  Britain  and  had  himself  proclaimed  independent 
emperor.  In  290  he  was  acknowledged  as  third  colleague 
by  the  Augusti,  but  no  place  was  found  for  him  when 
in  293  the  government  of  the  Roman  world  was 
divided  between  Diocletian,  Maximian,  and  two  newly 
chosen  Caesars — Galerius  and  Flavius  Valerius  Con- 
stantius,  later  called  Chlorus.  By  this  arrangement  the 
recovery  of  Britain  from  Allectus — who  had  murdered 
Carausius  about  294 — fell  to  Constantius,  and  he  accom- 
plished this  by  a  sudden  attack  in  296.  Constantius  was 
twice  married.  His  first  wife,  Helena,  bore  him  a  son, 
Constantine  the  Great;  his  second  was  a  step-daughter  of 
Maximian,  named  Theodora,  to  whom  coin  18  belongs. 

Britain  was  now  divided  into  four  Diocletian  provinces, 
to  which  a  fifth — Valentia — was  later  added  when  the 
country  north  of  Hadrian's  wall  was  re-occupied.  The 
only  other  event  of  Diocletian's  reign  to  be  noticed  is 
the  persecution  of  Christians  in  which,  according  to  tradi- 
tion, St.  Alban  lost  his  life  at  Verulam  about  303. 


304  ^A^  ENGLISH  MANOR 

(19-20)  On  May  1,  305,  Diocletian  and  Maximian  abdi- 
cated. Constantius  and  Galerius  now  became  Aucusti. 
Trouble  arose  over  the  two  vacant  Csesarships.  It  was  the 
aim  of  Galerius  to  exclude  Constantine,  but  the  latter 
escaped  to  his  father's  camp  at  York,  a  few  weeks  before 
Constantius  died  on  July  25,  306,  after  a  victory  over 
the  Picts  and  Scots.  Constantine  was  in  power  under 
various  titles  in  Gaul  and  Britain  for  five  years  until,  in 
311,  when  Galerius  died,  he  began  his  march  on  Rome, 
during  which  he  is  said  to  have  had  his  vision  of  the  cross 
with  the  words  iv  rovrco  vUa.  In  314  the  bishops 
of  York,  London,  and  some  other  uncertain  British  see 
attended  the  Council  of  Aries  which  sat  to  deal  with  the 
Donatist  schism.  The  British  Church  was  also  repre- 
sented at  the  Council  of  Nic£ea,  called  by  Constantine  in 
325  to  consider  the  Arian  heresy,  when  the  Nicene  Creed 
in  its  original  form  was  authorized;  the  British  vote  was 
orthodox.  It  was  Constantine  who  in  321  first  made 
Sunday  a  holiday,  but  whether  Christianity  or  Mithraism 
prompted  him  to  this  is  doubtful. 

(22-23)  When  Constantine  the  Great  died  in  337  the 
empire  was  divided  between  his  sons.  Constantius  II. 
received  the  east;  Constans,  Africa,  Italy,  and  the  Danuvian 
region;  Constantine  II.,  Gaul  and  Spam.  In  340  Con- 
stantine II.  attacked  Constans  and  was  killed.  Constans 
then  ruled  the  united  west;  it  seems  that  Constans  and 
Constantius  II.  visited  Britain  in  343.  Constans  was 
assassinated  in  350;  this  left  Constantius  II.  alone.  His 
policy  of  toleration  towards  the  Arians  led  to  a  great 
Church  Council  in  359.  The  eastern  bishops  met  at 
Seleucia,  the  western  at  Ariminum,  where  Britain  was 
represented.  By  a  certain  amount  of  coercion  Constantius 
forced  his  views  on  the  Western  Council.  At  this  time 
the  prosperity  of  Britain  was  great  and  corn  was  exported 
in  large  quantities. 

(24)  In  367  Valentinian  I.  made  his  son  Gratian, 
Augustus.  Gratian  was  later  married  to  Constantia, 
daughter    of    Constantius    II.     Roman    power    was  now 


IS  ALDINGTON  THE  ROMAN  ANTON  A  ?    805 

asserted  once  more  against  the  Picts  and  Scots,  and  also 
against  the  Saxon  raiders  by  Theodosius,  whose  son 
became  Augustus  in  379.  Gratian  himself  was  occupied 
on  the  Continent.  In  383  Magnus  Maximus  was  proclaimed 
emperor  in  Britain,  and  Gratian  was  murdered  on 
August  25. 

The  coins  were  not  a  hoard;  they  were  found  all  over 
the  Roman  area  I  have  described,  but  especially  in  Black- 
banks,  and  they  became  visible  generally  when  the  surface 
was  fallow  and  had  broken  down  into  fine  mould  from  the 
action  of  the  weather.  Their  scattered  occurrence,  and 
the  period  they  cover,  suggest  continuous  habitation 
throughout  the  most  important  part  of  the  Roman 
occupation  of  Britain,  and,  with  their  related  history 
they  occupy  a  distinguished  place  in  a  record  of  the 
harvest  of  Grain  and  Chaff  from  an  English  Manor. 


20 


INDEX 


"  Akermast,"  197 

Albinism,  25.5 

"  Alcoholiday/'  177 

Aldington,  1  ;  band,  122  ;  chapel, 
5  ;  concerts,  123  ;  consfcible,  8  ; 
derivation,  1  ;  farm,  3 ;  hosiery 
factory,  7  ;  manor,  2  ;  prepares 
to  resist  Jacobites,  7  ;  variants, 
5,  8,  298,  299  ;  village,  3 

Allsebrook,  Rev.  W.C.,5 

Alresford  fair,  49 

Antona,  294,  297,  298 

Apples,  103,  169,  170,  171 

Archdeacon's  visitations,  101,  102 

Arch,  Joseph,  59 

Asparagus,  85,  86,  87 

Avebury,  Lord,  214 

Avon,  meaning  of,  297 

Bad  debts,  farmers',  215 

Badsey,  1  ;  church  innovations, 
102,  110  ;  church  restoration,  89, 
90 ;  churchyard,  97,  98,  101  ; 
"  Feld,''  207  ;  market  gardeners, 
85 

Barley,  216,  217 

Barnard,  Mr.  E.  A.  B.,  5 

Barnard,  parish  clerk,  65, 92,  93, 95 

Bateman,  Miss  Isabel,  92 

Beech,  195,  196,  197  ;  "  groaning 
tree,"  197  ;  stage  effect,  198, 199  ; 
Waterloo  beeches,  197,  198 

Beef,  American,  72,  155 

Bees,  17,  18 

Bell,  William,  farm  bailiff,  12  ; 
bee-master,  17  ;  brewer,  18  ; 
courage,  14,  15  ;  generosity,  13  ; 
honesty,  20 ;  limited  outlook, 
18  ;  memory,  16  ;  peace-maker, 
16  ;  quoted,  11,  14 ;  repartee 
and  wit,  13,  24  ;  salesman,  17 

Bell,  Mrs.  AVilliam,  21 

Bellows,  antique,  285 

Bell-ringers,  94 

Bewick,  258 


Bible,  cunning  use  of,  40 

Blackbanks,  294 

Blackbirds,  265 

Blackminster,  294,  299 

Blackmore  quoted,  182,  196,  225 

Blacksmith,  151,  152 

Blue  distance,  237,  238 

Boer  War,  ^G 

Boys  at  farm  work,  39,  69 

Brandram,  Mr.,  92 

Bredon  Hill,  237 

"  Breese,"  156 

Brigg,  241 

Brooks  changing  course,  239,  241  ; 

diagram  of,  252 
Buckle  Street,  156,  296 
Buggilde  Street,  167 
Bull,  54 

Bullfinch,  185,  186 
Buller,  C.  F.,  113 
Butterflies,  273,  274,  275,  276 

Caldecott,  Randolph,  191,  226,  236, 

265 
Caravoglia,  Signor,  123 
Carter  boys,  39 
CaterpiUars,  184,  248,  259 
Cattle,  153,  154,  157 
Chamberlain,  Mr.  Arthur,  88 
"Chap-money,"  127,  129,  216 
Charles  II.,  7,  190,  227 
Charley,  "  silly,"  93 
"Chawns,"  211 
Cherries,  185 
China,  old,  285,  286,  287 
Chinese  slavery,  88 
Chippendale  furniture,  95, 165,  286 
Chipping  Campden,  18,  129 
Christ  Church,  Oxford,  90,  98 
Christmas,  21,  79,  95 
Church  music.  102,  103 
Churning,  154 
Cider,  174-177  ;  apples,  176 ;  lead 

poisoning,  178 
Cirencester  College,  147,  148 


306 


INDEX 


307 


Climate,   effects    on    animals,  135, 

13G 
Cloud-burst,  249 
Coal-club,  63,  64 
Cockatoo,  265 
Coffers,  antique,  193 
Coins,  Roman,  300 
Coleridge  quoted,  234 
Collins,  Mr.  Tliomas,  90 
Colour,  discordant,  95 
Competition,  American,  59,  208 
Compton,  Lady  Alvvyne,  92 
Confirmation,  103 
Constable,  John,  painter,  198 
"  Co-rider,"  30 
Coroner's  jury,  64,  65 
Cotswolds,  2,  19,  29 
Cottagers,  see  Labourers  ;   married 

couples,  72 
Council,  County,  election,  65 
Councils,  parisli,  etc.,  100 
Courtene,  Sir  Peter,  5 
Covi'per  quoted,  106,  264 
"Crabbing,"  130 
Cream  separator,  82 
Cricket,  119,120  ;  Eton  and  Harrow 

match,  234,  235 
Cromwell,  227 
Cronje,  GQ 

Cruikshank,  George,  133,  207 
Cuckoo,  184,  249,  259 
Curmudgeon,  village,  99 
Cycling,      278;       geology,      282; 

pageants    of    the     roads,     279 ; 

pictures,     real,     280 ;     roadside 

creatures,  281,  282 


Dairy,  153,  154,  155 

Damsons,  182 

Dandie  Dinmont,  266 

Daniel,  M.  N.,  on  Pekingese,  268 

Daniel,  S.,  105 

D'Aumale,  Due,  203 

Dealers,   artificial   fertilizers,    149, 

150 ;     cattle,    127,     134,     135  ; 

horse,  126, 127  ;  pig,  130  ;  sheep, 

127,  128,  129  ;  wool,  145,  146 
Dewponds,  242 
Dialect,  158,  288-291 
Disease,  human  and  plant,  analogy, 

224 
Dorset  labourer,  a,  71,  72 
Draining,  212,  213 
Duck,  pet,  264 


Edgehill,  Battle  of,  6,  7 
Education,    compulsory,    58,     116, 

117,  118 
Eggs,  disqualified,  121  ;  hens',  164, 

165,  16(5 
Elephant,  African,  115,  116 
Elevator,  82 
Elms,  187,  188 
Emperors,  Roman,  300-305 
Ermine,  281 

Evans,  Mr.  Herbert  A,  263 
Evesham,  Abbey,  1,4;  agricultural 

depression,  245, 246  ;  Vale  of,  2  ; 

water  supply,  243,  244 

Fairs,  37,  49,  130,  227,  228 

Fairy  rings,  47 

Farmers  Newstyle  and  Oldstj'^le, 
217,  218,  219 

Farrar,  Dean,  111,  112,  113,  114, 
288 

Fields,  derivation,  207  ;  large  and 
small,  83 

Finance,  58,  68 

Fishing,  35,  36 

Flail,  80 

Floods,  241,  242 

Flower  show,  village,  121 

Foley,  Lady  Emily,  91 

Football,  120 

Forks,  steel,  85,  86 

Foxes,  201,  254 

Fox  terrier,  "  Chips,''  266 

Fruit  markets,  172 

Furniture,  antique,  284  ;  Chippen- 
dale, 285,  286  ;  faked,  97 

Gainsborough,  market  cart,  193 

Gardener,  an  old,  53 

Ghosts,  67,  93 

Gipsies,  49,  200,  228 

Gladstone      quoted,      on      ancient 

church,  89 
Gleaning,  211 
"  Gloving,"  77 
Goldfinch,  260 
tiold,  hoarded,  58 
Goose,  pet,  264 
Grace,  Dr.  W.  G.,  119 
Grafter,  a,  141,  142 
Gray's  Elegy  quoted,  23,  46,  198 
Gryphea  incur va,  213 

"  Hag-ridden,"  47 
Hardy,  Mr.  Thomas,  77 


308 


AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


Harrow  School,  111  ;  chapel,  113; 
fourth  form  room,  114  ;  cricket 
match  at  Lords,  234,  235 

Har\est,  83,  244 

Hawfinch,  259 

Hawks,  2G2 

Hay-making,  69 

Hazel,  202 

Hedges,  overgrown,  205  ;  "  pleach- 
ing," 59 

Heredity,  117,  118 

Herrick,  reference  to  Gospel  Oak, 
195 

llistory  of  Evesham,  May^s,  68 ; 
Tindal's,  8 

Hoarding  gold,  58 

Hoby,  Sir  Philip,  4 

Holiday  outings,  78,  79 

Holly,  205 

Hood,  reference  to  butterflies,  276 

Hops,  aphis,  221  ;  dioecious,  226  ; 
drying,  31,  32  ;  introduction  of 
Flemish,  205  ;  natural  protection, 
222  ;  pocket  at  R.A.S.E.  show, 
139  ;  Saturnalia,  227  ;  tying,  75 

Hop-poles,  202,  203 

Hop-yards,  derivation,  221 

Horace,  reference  to  farm  work, 
207 

Horizon,  parochial,  18,  19 

Horses,  36,  40 

Hoskins,  Chandos  Wren,  Talpa,  on 
farming,  182  ;  draining,  133 ; 
illustrates  Horace's  lines,  207 

Hospitium  at  Badsey,  67 

Huguenots,  7 

Hurdle-making,  150,  151 

Indian  troops  at  Lyndhurst,  158 
Ingram,  Canon  Winnington,  300 
Inquest,  64,  Q5 
LP.,  honesty,  56 
Irving,  Sir  Henry,  120 
Irving,     Washington,     Bracebridgc 
Hall,  on  public  distress,  245 

Jackdaw,  pet,  264 

Jackson,  Sir  Thomas  Graham,  90,  96 

Jacobites,  1 ,  8 

Jarge,  23 ;  hon  vivant,  28  ;  cider- 
maker,  1 75  ;  daughter,  24,  26  ; 
discrimination,  26  ;  hop  foreman, 
25  ;  London  trip,  28 ;  narrow 
escape,  201  ;  soloist,  29 ;  sporting 
reputation,  24 


Jarrctt  monument,  6 

Jays,  265 

J.  E.,  carter,  accidents,  64,  65  ; 
hop-washing,  55 

J.  E.,  iMrs.,  55 

Jim,  carter,  35 ;  angler,  35  ;  fore- 
sight,  41  ;    French   horses,   37 
loyalty,     37  ;    ploughman,     38 
rheumatism,  40  ;   salesman,  37 
tender-hearted,  38 

"  Jingoism,"  derivation,  72 

John  C.,  shepherd,  46 

Keats,  reference  to  trees,  187 

"  King  Arthur,"  254 

King  Edward  VII.,  138,  203,  234 

Kingfisher,  257 

King  George  V.,  19,  249 

Kinghani  Old  and  New,  77 

Kingham  Station,  59 

"  Know-all,"  the,  73,  74 

Kruger,  66 

Labourers,  agricultural:  bad  temper, 
effect  on  animals,  74  ;  aesthetic 
feeling,  61 ;  enfranchised,  83  ; 
enjoyment  of  grievance,  65 ; 
feuds,  71  ;  honesty,  56  ;  interest 
in  horrors,  64  ;  limited  vocabu- 
lary, 62  ;  literal  use  of  words,  62, 
63  ;  not  callous,  62 ;  "  not  paid 
to  think,"  exceptional,  45  ;  recog- 
nize visilde  property  only,  57  ; 
resignation  and  fortitude,  60 ; 
responsibility,  effect  of,  73  ; 
reticence,  61  ;  savings,  57  ; 
seldom  slackers,  69 ;  suspicious 
of  change,  63  ;  sympathetic,  58  ; 
understand  sarcasm,  seldom  irony, 
73 

Ladybirds,  225 

Lamb,  New  Zealand,  162 

Lambs  not  to  be  killed,  160, 161, 162 

Land,  division  of,  84 

Land  girls,  76 

"  Leasing,''  derivation  of,  211 

Leland,  4,  296 

Lind,  Jenny,  124,  125 

Liver-rot,  160 

London,  Bishop  of,  a  former,  198 

Long  Marstou,  7 

Loudon,  John,  197 

Machinery,  80 
Magpies,  256 


INDEX 


Maid-servants,  7(3 

Malvern  concerts,  27,  90,  91,  02 

Martin,    Mr.   C.    S.,  139,   140  ;  on 

cabbage  butterflies,  275  ;  wasps, 

275 
Martin,  Mr.  Wm.,  on  finding  wasps' 

nests,  274 
Matriculation,     young     yeoman's, 

283,  284 
May's  History  of  Evesham,  68 
May,  shelter  during,  155 
Medicinal  herbs  during  war,  45 
Melanism,  255 
"  'Merican  beef,"  72,  155 
Merry  gardens,  derivation,  186 
Meteorology,  230-234,  237 
Mickleton  tunnel,  29 
"Mist-bow,"' 251 
Mistifier,  55 
Mist-lake,  252 
Mistletoe,  173 
Mole- catcher,  143 
Moths,  271,  272,  278 
Mountford's  restaurant,  20,  21 
Mowing  machines,  81 
"  Mug,"  a,  140 

Names,  place,  291-292 ;  villagers, 
292-293 

New  Forest  ''commoners,"  194; 
communion  between  man  and 
trees,  199 ;  land  mostly  poor, 
188  ;  oaks,  189,  190, 199  ;  timber 
during  war,  194,  204 

Nightingales,  2G1 

Nuthatch,  257 

Oak,  188,  189  ;  American,  96,  97  ; 

attitudes    of,    190;    bark,    193; 

"Gospel,"  195  ;  history  in,  195  ; 

heart  of,  193  ;  plantations,  192 
Obadiah  B,,  thatcher,  148 
Onomatopoeia,  use  of,  196,  256 
Omnicycle,  22,  51 
Orchards,  167,  168 
Overton  fair,  49 
"  Ox-droves,"  157 

Pageants  of  the  roads,  279 
Parochial  horizon,  18,  19 
Peacocks,  253,  254 
Pear  trees,  179,  180 
Peking,  relief  of,  104 
Pekingese,  267,  268,  269 
Perry,  179,  180 


Pershoro,  37,  197 

Peruvian  guano,  87 

Plieasants,  204,  255 

Philips,  Cydrr,  175 

Picker,  a,  103 

"  Pleacliing,"  59 

Ploughing,  38,  39,  213,  214 

Plumber's  story,  45 

Plums,  182,  183,  184 

Ponv,  "  Taffy,"  270 

Poodle,  266 

"Popery,"  20,  110 

Postman,  122 

Potatoes,  18  ;  disease,         ;  Myatt's 

ashleaf,  origin,  54 
Poulton,  Miss,  90 
Poultry,  164 
Punch  quoted,  19,  102 

Queen  Victoria,  255 

Railway    accident,   163 ;  sleepers, 

204-206 
Randell,  Mr.  Charles,  81 
Randulf,  Abbot,  4 
Rat-catcber,  143 
Rats,  143 

"Reconstruction,''  246 
Ridge  and  furrow,  213,  214 
Rival  hedgers,  105 
Roads,  ancient,  279-280,  283,  296- 

297 
Roberts,  Lord,  66 
Roman  coins,  300  ;  Emperors,  301- 

305  ;  remains,  294,  295 
Rooks'  arithmetic,    260;   building, 

91 
Rottingdean,  262,  271,  276 
Rough  music,  77,  78 
Royal      Agricultural     Society     of 

England,  138,  139 
Rus  in  urbe,  234-237 
Ruskin,  81 
Ryknield  Street,  156,  295-297,  300 

Sabbath-breaking,  163,  164 

Sales,  by  bailiff,  132,   133;  books, 

133  ;  fruit,  172  ;  sheep,  136, 137  ; 

short-horns,  134,  135 
Salisbury,  Lord,  90,  91 
Salter  Street,  296 
"  Satan  leading  on,"  105 
Savorj',    Mrs.   A.   U.,  86,  90,  122- 

124,  153,  164 
Savory,  Mr.  F.  E.,  250 


310 


AN  ENGLISH  MANOR 


Selborne  (see  AVhite),  (Church,  94 

Seventh  Division  in  New  Forest, 
280 

Scapula,  P.  Ostorius,  297 

School  lioard,  Jiadsey,  lOG  ;  chair- 
man, 107  ;  economy,  115  ;  "  first 
duty  "of  members,  107  ;  grouped 
parishes,  108  ;  "  ie^noramiis,"  an, 
115  ;  inspectors,  111,114;  mares' 
nests,  IIG;  reading-book,  114; 
religious  instruction,  109-111  ; 
reporters  at  meetings,  108  ;  site 
for  building,  109 ;  "  six  little 
pigs,"  114 

"  Score,''  derivation  of,  1 G 

Scots-fir,  204 

Scottish  wool  trade,  145 

Scot,  lleynolde,  on  hops,  220 

Scrutator,  253 

Shakespeare,  local  phraseology, 
289,  290  ;  local  reputation,  120 

Shakespeare  quoted,  on  bargains, 
126  ;  carouse  at  Bid  ford,  179  ; 
content,  57  ;  "  daring "  larks, 
2G3  ;  England  if  true  to  self,  QG  ; 
fairy  rings,  47 ;  fool  i'  the  forest, 
191  ;  gadfly,  15G  ;  hope  and  de- 
spair, 220  ;  lady-smocks,  276  ; 
narrow  outlook,  19  ;  "pleaching,'' 
59;  Providence,  1  ;  sweet  of  the 
year,  232 

Sliappen,  derivation,  129 

Sheep,  47-50,  158-160 

Sheep  dipper,  142 

Shelley  on  skylark,  253 

Shepherds,  46,  50,  7G,  77 

"  Shepherd's  neglect,"  48 

Signhurst,  derivation,  67 

Skylark,  263 

Sladden,  Mr.  Julius,  89,  121 

Snake  and  Toad,  282 

Snewin,  carpenter,  42 

Squirrels,  281 

Stag-beetles,  277 

Steam  power,  83 

Stockmen  often  resemble  their 
animals,  162 

Stupid  places,  292 

"  Summer  dance,"  251 

"  Summer-time,"  230,  231 

Sunday  work,  244 

Superstition,  18,  21,  46,  47,  67 

Tacitus,  297 

"  Tantiddy's  fire,"  33 


Taylor,  (Chevalier,  52 

'i'elegraph  wires  in  frost,  183 

Tennyson  quoted,  on  apples,  167  ; 
business  men,  141 ;  clianges  of 
earth's  surface,  239  ;  dairy,  153  ; 
farming  walk,  207  ;  hazels,  202  ; 
home-made  bread,  211 ;  Morte 
d'  Arthur, \  ;  music,  119  ;  old  oaks, 
187 ;  onomatopoeic  lines,  196  ; 
our  echoes,  288 ;  politics,  80 ; 
royal  oak,  195  ;  spring-time,  202  ; 
steam  cultivation,  83  ;  "summer 
dance, "  251  ;  tea-cup  times,  286  ; 
town  and  country,  230 

Tennyson  at  agricultural  show,  139 

Temper,  effect  on  animals,  74 

Temple,  Sir  Richard,  83-86,  88 

Thatching,  148,  149,  200 

Thistles,  260 

Thomson  quoted,  36 

Thoreau  quoted,  199 

Thrashhig,  80,  81,  215 

"  Three  acres  and  a  cow,"  84 

Tom,  29  ;  caution,  33,  34  ;  drain- 
ing, 31  ;  harvesting,  32,  33 ; 
hop-drying,  31  ;  mowing,  30 ; 
musical  critic,  33  ;  tree-felling, 
30 

Tom  G. ,  41  ;  accuracy,  42  ;  builder, 
44  ;  carpenter,  41 ;  efficiency,  45  ; 
epigram,  43,  44  ;  teetoUil,  41 

Trees,  paintings  of,  192,  193 

Tricker,  50,  51,  52 

Trout,  35,  36,  49 

Truffle-hunter,  144,  145 

Tusser,  'J'homas,  on  hop-growing, 
220,  221 

Urchins,  264,  282,  291 

Valentine's  Day,  St.,  160 
Vestry  meetings,  99,  100 
Veterinary  surgeons,  147,  148 
Vicar  (my  first)  as  prosecutor,  101  ; 
former  ways  of  parishioners,  94, 
95  ;    impressive  reader,   98,    99 ; 
"  navr  fanners,"  13  ;    procession 
with  choir,    102;   restoration   of 
church,  89,  90 
Vicar  (my  second)   declines  to  act 
on  School  Hoard,  109 ;  religious 
instruction,  110  ;  scholar,  104 
Vicar  (my  tliird),  innovations,  110  ; 
relief  of  Peking,  104 ;  religious 
instruction,  110,  111 


INDEX 


311 


Vicar,  a  Gloucestershire,  104 
Vicar  of  Old  Basing,  155 
Victory,  old  battleship,  194 
Villagers,  see  Labourers,  funeral,  15 
Villages,    Cotswold     aud    Vale    of 

Evesham,  283 
"  Viper,''  egg-eater,  166  ;  rescues 
children,  21,  22  :  avoids  "  dip- 
ping," 142 
Virgil,  Georgics  and  farm  work, 
207 ;  onomatopoeic  lines,  11)5, 
196;  on  planting  trees,  168; 
prophetic  lines,  300 

Wages,  68,  69,  70 

Waggon,    an  ancient,    139 ;   name 

on  a,  131,  132 
Wakefield,  Bishop  of,  230 
Walnut  chair,  7 
War,  great,  45,  161,  227 
Warde  Fowler,  Mr.,  77,  78 
Washington,  Penelope,  9,  10 
Wasps,  274,  275 
Water-rats,  144 
Waterspouts,  250 
Way- warden,  100 
Weather,  abnormal,  247,  248,  249  ; 

signs,  233 
Wedding  feast,  a  village,  65 
Weeds,  70 

Weighing  machine,  incorrect,  43 
Wellington,  Duke  of,  197 
"  Welsher,"  a,  137 
"  Wendy,"  Pekingese,  267 


Westwood,  Professor,  276 

VV^eyhill  Fair,  228 

Wickhamford,  8,  94,  299 

Wild  geese,  2(53 

Wild,  iMiss  Margaret,  92 

Will  Hall  farm,  235 

Will-o'-the-wisp,  249 

Willow  ("  withy  "),  199,  201 

Wheatear,  bird,  262 

Wheat  :  growing,    ruined    by    im- 

portiitions,   208  ;    liarvest,    210 ; 

hoeing,  70  ;  rick  buihiing,  212 
Whisky,  131,  178 
White,    Gilbert,    black    bullfinch, 

257 ;     dew-ponds,     243  ;     salted 

flesh,  296  ;   Saxon  plurals,  289 ; 

Selborne  Churcli  bells,  94 
White,  Miss  Maude  V.,  124 
Women  on  the  land,  74,  75,  76 
Woodcock,  258,  259 
Woodpecker,  green,  256 
Woodpigeons,  261 
Wool,  146,  147  ;  staplers,  145 
"  Woonts,"  143 
Worcester,   Battle  of,  7 ;   Bishops 

of,    103 ;     butter    market,    154 ; 

china,  161  ;  hop-fair,  227 
Words,  confusion  of,  51,  52 
Wordsworth  quoted,  61,  263 
Wren,  golden-crested,  261 
"  Wusser  and  wusser,  old,"  29 
Wych-elm,  53 

Yardley,  Richard,  will  of,  5 


BILLIKO  AMD  SONS,  LTS.,  PBIMTBSS,  ODILSFOBD,  EMOULNS 


From    BASIL    BLACKWELL'S    LIST 

Kingham  Old  and  New.  Studies  in  a  Rural 
Parish.  By  W.  Warde  Fowler,  Author  of  '*  A  Year  with 
the  Birds."  With  Frontispiece  by  E.  H.  New,  Plan  of  the 
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"The  Kingham  observations  are  in  the  right  succession  of  Selborne." — 
The  Times. 

"  In  the  beautiful  limpidity  of  his  style  and  the  mingling  in  him  of  the 
antiquary  and  the  naturalist  he  often  makes  us  think  of  Gilbert  White." — 
The  AtheiKsum. 

Three  Centuries  in  North  Oxfordshire.     By 

M.  Sturge  Henderson  (Mrs.  Gretton).  With  eleven  Illus- 
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well  written  in  his  time,  in  which  Sir  Walter  Scott  most  delighted."— T/itf 
Times. 

Burford,  Past  and  Present.     The  Story  of  a 

Cotswold  Township.  By  M.  Sturge  Gretton.  With  a 
Preface  by  W.  Warde  Fowler,  and  3  Plates.     6s.  net. 

II  From  Dr.  Warde  Fowler's  Preface  : 

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Edited,  with  Introduction,  by  H.  C.  Beeching,  Late  Dean 
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BROAD   STREET,   OXFORD 


^ii> 


AA    000  883  866    6 


